She was hot, sweating, the air felt thick. It was difficult for her to get a breath. Crouched in the darkness, Morgan gasped, trying to draw hot, near burning air into lungs that already felt as if they were on fire. As she knelt, gasping, a dim light seemed to grow around her, and as it grew, so did the heat, until she could see a distant ring of flames encircling her.
Morgan struggled to her feet, looking for some break in the flames. As she watched, they seemed to grow larger, the circle smaller as they encroached upon her. Now she could make out figures in the flames. Horrible, twisted forms that danced and capered and cajoled in a sort of macabre ritual of which she was a part. Over the roar of the flames, she could hear their voices raised, a howling chorus that chilled her to the bone as they called out to something unseen.
Laughter, deep, rolling, an altogether evil rolled over her, and she fell to her knees, pressing her forehead to the earth in submission. She was near debasing herself, almost flattening herself onto the earth as it shook and trembled. What the hell was going on? She tried to make her body move, but it stayed exactly where it was, flat on the ground, as some great evil drew nearer.
She sensed something standing over her, and heard that same deep, terrifying voice muttered "Rise, my servant."
Morgan's eyes traveled up, and up and up, her mind unable to put together the horrible mishmash of pieces and parts that constructed the creature before her. It felt as if her heart had stilled in her chest. She sucked in a might, burning breath, and screamed.
Everything went black.
When she could see again, it was to see a warm, golden light filling her vision. She was nestled in something soft, comforting, and warm. A feeling of utter safety seemed to permeate her being, of well being and peace. Carefully, she looked around.
The room was rather barren of anything, save the bed that she laid upon, and a single chair. In that chair, sat a man. He was clothed all in white, his clothes of an archaic style and design. Distantly it reminded her of something out of a fairy tale book. His hair was loose and flowing, a pure white that matched his skin. It cascaded loose and unbound down to the very floor. Two blue, glowing eyes were set in a delicate face, and there was the sweep of delicately pointed ears poking out of his hair. Briefly, she thought she saw something shimmer behind him.
He was sitting cross-legged in the chair, one knee over the other, with his hands clasped and resting in his lap. It was a very easy looking position. His face was ageless, handsome, and distantly familiar.
"Hello Morrigan," he said, and his voice rang like chimes. "that wasn't a pleasant dream you were having, was it?"
"Where am I?" Morgan asked, sitting up and looking around.
"Oh, you're still dreaming." The man said. "But don't worry. I promise this dream will be much less disturbing than that other one."
Morgan swung her legs over the edge of the bed. "Who are you?"
"My name is Larodrill." He said. Then, he paused expectantly.
"Is that supposed to mean something to me?" Morgan asked.
He looked hurt, stricken, raising a fine-boned hand to his breast. "You mean your mother never spoke of me?"
She shook her head, confused. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
Larodrill shook his head, and rose, Once again, she saw something shimmery behind him, and with a start realized it was wings. Long, slender, dragon- fly like wings. He fluttered them in a blur, causing a slight breeze. It reminded her distantly of warm, spring days, of meadows, and the wild places.
"I can not believe she would not mention me," Larodrill bemoaned. "Is she so ashamed of what she is?"
Morgan, frustrated, rose to her feet. "Look, either you start explaining what's going on, or I'm going to get very, very angry."
Larodrill raised an elegant eyebrow at her. "Are you threatening me? I believe you are!" He clapped his hands together. "Oh, simply delightful! Perhaps there is some hope for this branch of the family after all. I'll tell you what, Mortal child. If you can answer me a riddle, then I'll answer you whatever questions you may have for me."
"You've got to be joking!" Morgan exclaimed.
"It's no joke, child. Answer me a riddle, and I'll answer every question you may have." Larodrill laughed. "It's a simple riddle, I promise."
"What if I refuse to answer?" Morgan asked.
Larodrill suddenly grew very still. It was an eerie stillness, as if he'd suddenly become a lifeless statue. Not a hair moved, his chest didn't rise and fall. He simply stood there, staring at her. Morgan felt herself grow cold and uneasy. "Then you will not wake."
"Tell me your riddle." She said, finally.
Suddenly he lurched back to life. His wings fluttered once more, and a gentle hum accompanied them. "excellent! Here is your riddle. Only one color, not one size. Stuck at the bottom, easily flies. Present in sun, not in rain. Causing no harm, feeling no pain. What am I?"
Morgan shook her head. "I have no idea."
Larodrill smiled indulgently. "I'll give you a day to find the answer."
"What do you mean, you'll give me a day to-"
"Morgan? Are you awake?" Theresa's voice pervaded her sleep fogged mind. Morgan yawned, and stretched, her brain buzzing slightly. She dreamt of- something. It seemed to slip away from her, and the more she tried to remember, the less she could recall.
"Hmmph?" She said sleepily. "Tessa? Z'matter?"
Theresa's head poked through the door. "Oh damn, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up."
Morgan stretched again, and slowly sat up, rubbing one of her eyes. "S'okay. S'mthing wrong?"
"No, no I just wanted to see how last night went." Despite herself, Morgan felt a smile spread across her face, and Theresa laughed. "Ooooh that good huh? Tell me everything!"
Morgan beckoned her sister closer, and Theresa shut the door, perching on the foot of her bed. "It was fantastic." She gushed. "We went out to dinner, and dancing, and, oh god Theresa it was sheer perfection. We have so much in common! This is the first time either of us have really been able to sit down and talk to each other face to face, and we both learned so much. I mean, I knew a lot about him before, but it was sort of like I tumbled into bed without really knowing him you know? And he felt the same way. It was really, really good for us to be able to sit down and talk."
"Mm hmm. So how far did you let him get this time?" Theresa asked, and Morgan rolled her eyes.
"Well, I got a very chaste kiss on the cheek, but I tell you, from the way that man dances," she closed her eyes and shivered with delight. "it's almost like sex with your clothes on. Simply amazing!"
"I'm jealous!" Theresa declared. Then, she sobered. "Did you tell him?"
"I was going to, but I chickened out. We were both having such a good time, I didn't want to ruin it. He's coming over here tonight, and I'm going to tell him then."
Theresa raised an eyebrow. "Coming over here? Whyfore?"
"I'm going to make him watch Pirates of the Carribean." Morgan said. "We'll just veg in front of the TV, and eat popcorn, and it'll be good."
"And what are you going to do with Mom and Dad?" Theresa asked.
"Bribe them to go out to dinner and a movie?" Morgan laughed. "Nothing at all. It's mom's Bingo night down at the church, and dad's going out with some of his old cop buddies. Moriah's working down in the lab all night, so it'll just be me, him, and the big screen."
Theresa said "So, I guess I better not be thinking of crashing that, hmm?"
Morgan, horrified, threw a pillow at her sister.
A tentative knock came at the door, and Morgan almost ran to the door. At that last moment, she paused, taking a deep breath and surveying her attire to make sure everything was in place. Not that it was all that complex. Bare feet with blue jeans and a purple T-shirt. Still, she wanted to look her best.
With a smile, she opened the door. Kurt had his hand raised to knock a second time, and hastily lowered it when the door open. His other arm was safely concealed behind his back. Morgan's smile grew even more broad. "Why, Mr. Wagner. What a pleasant surprise."
"Gutenabend, mein Schatz." Kurt smiled, "I trust you are well this lovely evening?"
"Ja danke für das Bitten. Nicht kommen Sie herein?" Morgan smiled as his eyebrows went up.
"Yes, thank you." He said. "Oh, ah, these are for you." From behind his back he produced three roses, one white, one yellow, and one red.
Morgan blushed, and took them from him, "Oh Kurt, they're lovely." She stepped aside to allow him entry, then closed the door. "I'll just go put these in some water. Please, feel free to make yourself at home. All the windows are blocked so no one will be able to peek in if you want to shut your inducer off."
"Ja, thank you Morgan." Kurt said. Morgan went into the kitchen and found a narrow vase. In a few moments, she had the roses nipped, watered, and ready. She brought them back out into the living room, and set them down on the corner of the coffee table. Kurt, holographic image gone, was busy exploring the living room. At the moment, he'd spotted a tapestry documenting Margaret's family tree for ten generations. He was peering at it intently, his tail swishing idly. "Hmm." He said. "What?" Morgan asked, and went over to him to see what he was looking at. When she stepped beside him, his tail briefly coiled around her calf in greeting before flitting off to explore a potted fern. She was beginning to believe the thing had a mind of it's own.
"This," Kurt said. "Here is your mother, ja?" he pointed at Margaret's name.
"Right."
"Well, here are her grandparents, and their parents, and their parents, and so on, ja? But look here. Do you see, where the tree branches out here? There is a question mark." He tapped one thick finger on something Morgan never noticed before.
The beginning of the tree started with her many times great grandparents. They themselves had over seventeen children. And those children in turn had several of their own. She knew that her mother's line ran straight into that gaggle of children. So she studied the central area, and was shocked to see that next to grandma Gertrude's name there was the name Angus, a Scottish name if she ever saw one, and another line, connecting to a question mark. All three lines came together, and pointed to a single child from which she was descended.
"There seems to be some question of your many times great grandfather's birth." Kurt said. "Do you know the story behind it?"
"No." Morgan said thoughtfully. "I don't. I wonder if mom does though."
"Perhaps you should ask her, ja?"
"Ja." Morgan felt a chill run down her spine. She gave herself a shake, and then slipped her hand into Kurt's. "Come on, let's go watch the movie. I've got the DVD all ready, popcorn, and I can grab us something to drink from the fridge."
Not more than a half an hour later, they were cuddled together on the couch, munching on popcorn from the bowl that Kurt was holding in his lap. Kurt watched the movie with rapt attention, sometimes forgetting the popcorn that was sitting on his lap. Eventually, he set the bowl aside entirely and simply pulled Morgan closer. Happily, she snuggled against him and sighed.
When the movie was over, they watched a few of the extra features, then discussed it in great detail. While Kurt had found the story to be enjoyable, he'd believed that the special affects and the wire work could have been done without. Morgan disagreed, thinking that it gave the movie an edge it might not have otherwise had. The only thing they were unanimous upon, was that Johnny Depp's performance was excellent.
Morgan glanced at the clock. It was 9:30 and she new her mother would be home soon. If she was going to tell Kurt tonight, it was going to have to be now. A sudden tangle of emotions settled in the pit of her stomach, and she took a deep breath to calm herself.
"Morgan? Is something wrong?" Kurt asked. She sighed, and untangled herself from his warm embrace, settling on the other end of the couch.
"Yes. No. I don't know." She said, frustrated. "Kurt, there's something I have to tell you."
Solemnly, he nodded. "You can tell me anything Morgan." He took her hand in his, and held it gently.
Morgan sighed, and rose, withdrawing her hands from him. It was not that she wanted the support, quite the contrary in fact, but more that she did not want to see his reaction when she told him. She was absolutely terrified, and she felt the most distance between her and him physically, the better.
"Something's happened, that I didn't think could ever happen to me." She said softly, and turned away from him. Crossing her arms, she hugged herself. "Honestly, I never expected it, and I certainly never wanted it. But now that it's here, I can't imagine doing anything else but finishing it."
The couch squeaked as Kurt shifted. "Morgan, please, tell me what is troubling you."
"I wouldn't have even brought it up Kurt, but it's something that affects you too. From this moment on, our lives are never ever going to be the same." She said. Then, she took a deep breath.
"I'm pregnant."
Thanks everyone for reading along with me so far. I promise you, a whole lot of things about Morgan are going to start making sense over the next few chapters. You're going to have to bear with me, cause it's going to seem like I'm delving into the realm of Mary-Sueish-ness again, but trust me, it's not at all what you're expecting.
Hopefully I'll have another chapter up by the end of the week, and I'm sorry this one is so short, but I didn't want to overload it with extraneous detail, and I DEFINITELY wanted to end with a cliffhanger (Because, well, it's me and, frankly, I'm evil.)
Morgan struggled to her feet, looking for some break in the flames. As she watched, they seemed to grow larger, the circle smaller as they encroached upon her. Now she could make out figures in the flames. Horrible, twisted forms that danced and capered and cajoled in a sort of macabre ritual of which she was a part. Over the roar of the flames, she could hear their voices raised, a howling chorus that chilled her to the bone as they called out to something unseen.
Laughter, deep, rolling, an altogether evil rolled over her, and she fell to her knees, pressing her forehead to the earth in submission. She was near debasing herself, almost flattening herself onto the earth as it shook and trembled. What the hell was going on? She tried to make her body move, but it stayed exactly where it was, flat on the ground, as some great evil drew nearer.
She sensed something standing over her, and heard that same deep, terrifying voice muttered "Rise, my servant."
Morgan's eyes traveled up, and up and up, her mind unable to put together the horrible mishmash of pieces and parts that constructed the creature before her. It felt as if her heart had stilled in her chest. She sucked in a might, burning breath, and screamed.
Everything went black.
When she could see again, it was to see a warm, golden light filling her vision. She was nestled in something soft, comforting, and warm. A feeling of utter safety seemed to permeate her being, of well being and peace. Carefully, she looked around.
The room was rather barren of anything, save the bed that she laid upon, and a single chair. In that chair, sat a man. He was clothed all in white, his clothes of an archaic style and design. Distantly it reminded her of something out of a fairy tale book. His hair was loose and flowing, a pure white that matched his skin. It cascaded loose and unbound down to the very floor. Two blue, glowing eyes were set in a delicate face, and there was the sweep of delicately pointed ears poking out of his hair. Briefly, she thought she saw something shimmer behind him.
He was sitting cross-legged in the chair, one knee over the other, with his hands clasped and resting in his lap. It was a very easy looking position. His face was ageless, handsome, and distantly familiar.
"Hello Morrigan," he said, and his voice rang like chimes. "that wasn't a pleasant dream you were having, was it?"
"Where am I?" Morgan asked, sitting up and looking around.
"Oh, you're still dreaming." The man said. "But don't worry. I promise this dream will be much less disturbing than that other one."
Morgan swung her legs over the edge of the bed. "Who are you?"
"My name is Larodrill." He said. Then, he paused expectantly.
"Is that supposed to mean something to me?" Morgan asked.
He looked hurt, stricken, raising a fine-boned hand to his breast. "You mean your mother never spoke of me?"
She shook her head, confused. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
Larodrill shook his head, and rose, Once again, she saw something shimmery behind him, and with a start realized it was wings. Long, slender, dragon- fly like wings. He fluttered them in a blur, causing a slight breeze. It reminded her distantly of warm, spring days, of meadows, and the wild places.
"I can not believe she would not mention me," Larodrill bemoaned. "Is she so ashamed of what she is?"
Morgan, frustrated, rose to her feet. "Look, either you start explaining what's going on, or I'm going to get very, very angry."
Larodrill raised an elegant eyebrow at her. "Are you threatening me? I believe you are!" He clapped his hands together. "Oh, simply delightful! Perhaps there is some hope for this branch of the family after all. I'll tell you what, Mortal child. If you can answer me a riddle, then I'll answer you whatever questions you may have for me."
"You've got to be joking!" Morgan exclaimed.
"It's no joke, child. Answer me a riddle, and I'll answer every question you may have." Larodrill laughed. "It's a simple riddle, I promise."
"What if I refuse to answer?" Morgan asked.
Larodrill suddenly grew very still. It was an eerie stillness, as if he'd suddenly become a lifeless statue. Not a hair moved, his chest didn't rise and fall. He simply stood there, staring at her. Morgan felt herself grow cold and uneasy. "Then you will not wake."
"Tell me your riddle." She said, finally.
Suddenly he lurched back to life. His wings fluttered once more, and a gentle hum accompanied them. "excellent! Here is your riddle. Only one color, not one size. Stuck at the bottom, easily flies. Present in sun, not in rain. Causing no harm, feeling no pain. What am I?"
Morgan shook her head. "I have no idea."
Larodrill smiled indulgently. "I'll give you a day to find the answer."
"What do you mean, you'll give me a day to-"
"Morgan? Are you awake?" Theresa's voice pervaded her sleep fogged mind. Morgan yawned, and stretched, her brain buzzing slightly. She dreamt of- something. It seemed to slip away from her, and the more she tried to remember, the less she could recall.
"Hmmph?" She said sleepily. "Tessa? Z'matter?"
Theresa's head poked through the door. "Oh damn, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up."
Morgan stretched again, and slowly sat up, rubbing one of her eyes. "S'okay. S'mthing wrong?"
"No, no I just wanted to see how last night went." Despite herself, Morgan felt a smile spread across her face, and Theresa laughed. "Ooooh that good huh? Tell me everything!"
Morgan beckoned her sister closer, and Theresa shut the door, perching on the foot of her bed. "It was fantastic." She gushed. "We went out to dinner, and dancing, and, oh god Theresa it was sheer perfection. We have so much in common! This is the first time either of us have really been able to sit down and talk to each other face to face, and we both learned so much. I mean, I knew a lot about him before, but it was sort of like I tumbled into bed without really knowing him you know? And he felt the same way. It was really, really good for us to be able to sit down and talk."
"Mm hmm. So how far did you let him get this time?" Theresa asked, and Morgan rolled her eyes.
"Well, I got a very chaste kiss on the cheek, but I tell you, from the way that man dances," she closed her eyes and shivered with delight. "it's almost like sex with your clothes on. Simply amazing!"
"I'm jealous!" Theresa declared. Then, she sobered. "Did you tell him?"
"I was going to, but I chickened out. We were both having such a good time, I didn't want to ruin it. He's coming over here tonight, and I'm going to tell him then."
Theresa raised an eyebrow. "Coming over here? Whyfore?"
"I'm going to make him watch Pirates of the Carribean." Morgan said. "We'll just veg in front of the TV, and eat popcorn, and it'll be good."
"And what are you going to do with Mom and Dad?" Theresa asked.
"Bribe them to go out to dinner and a movie?" Morgan laughed. "Nothing at all. It's mom's Bingo night down at the church, and dad's going out with some of his old cop buddies. Moriah's working down in the lab all night, so it'll just be me, him, and the big screen."
Theresa said "So, I guess I better not be thinking of crashing that, hmm?"
Morgan, horrified, threw a pillow at her sister.
A tentative knock came at the door, and Morgan almost ran to the door. At that last moment, she paused, taking a deep breath and surveying her attire to make sure everything was in place. Not that it was all that complex. Bare feet with blue jeans and a purple T-shirt. Still, she wanted to look her best.
With a smile, she opened the door. Kurt had his hand raised to knock a second time, and hastily lowered it when the door open. His other arm was safely concealed behind his back. Morgan's smile grew even more broad. "Why, Mr. Wagner. What a pleasant surprise."
"Gutenabend, mein Schatz." Kurt smiled, "I trust you are well this lovely evening?"
"Ja danke für das Bitten. Nicht kommen Sie herein?" Morgan smiled as his eyebrows went up.
"Yes, thank you." He said. "Oh, ah, these are for you." From behind his back he produced three roses, one white, one yellow, and one red.
Morgan blushed, and took them from him, "Oh Kurt, they're lovely." She stepped aside to allow him entry, then closed the door. "I'll just go put these in some water. Please, feel free to make yourself at home. All the windows are blocked so no one will be able to peek in if you want to shut your inducer off."
"Ja, thank you Morgan." Kurt said. Morgan went into the kitchen and found a narrow vase. In a few moments, she had the roses nipped, watered, and ready. She brought them back out into the living room, and set them down on the corner of the coffee table. Kurt, holographic image gone, was busy exploring the living room. At the moment, he'd spotted a tapestry documenting Margaret's family tree for ten generations. He was peering at it intently, his tail swishing idly. "Hmm." He said. "What?" Morgan asked, and went over to him to see what he was looking at. When she stepped beside him, his tail briefly coiled around her calf in greeting before flitting off to explore a potted fern. She was beginning to believe the thing had a mind of it's own.
"This," Kurt said. "Here is your mother, ja?" he pointed at Margaret's name.
"Right."
"Well, here are her grandparents, and their parents, and their parents, and so on, ja? But look here. Do you see, where the tree branches out here? There is a question mark." He tapped one thick finger on something Morgan never noticed before.
The beginning of the tree started with her many times great grandparents. They themselves had over seventeen children. And those children in turn had several of their own. She knew that her mother's line ran straight into that gaggle of children. So she studied the central area, and was shocked to see that next to grandma Gertrude's name there was the name Angus, a Scottish name if she ever saw one, and another line, connecting to a question mark. All three lines came together, and pointed to a single child from which she was descended.
"There seems to be some question of your many times great grandfather's birth." Kurt said. "Do you know the story behind it?"
"No." Morgan said thoughtfully. "I don't. I wonder if mom does though."
"Perhaps you should ask her, ja?"
"Ja." Morgan felt a chill run down her spine. She gave herself a shake, and then slipped her hand into Kurt's. "Come on, let's go watch the movie. I've got the DVD all ready, popcorn, and I can grab us something to drink from the fridge."
Not more than a half an hour later, they were cuddled together on the couch, munching on popcorn from the bowl that Kurt was holding in his lap. Kurt watched the movie with rapt attention, sometimes forgetting the popcorn that was sitting on his lap. Eventually, he set the bowl aside entirely and simply pulled Morgan closer. Happily, she snuggled against him and sighed.
When the movie was over, they watched a few of the extra features, then discussed it in great detail. While Kurt had found the story to be enjoyable, he'd believed that the special affects and the wire work could have been done without. Morgan disagreed, thinking that it gave the movie an edge it might not have otherwise had. The only thing they were unanimous upon, was that Johnny Depp's performance was excellent.
Morgan glanced at the clock. It was 9:30 and she new her mother would be home soon. If she was going to tell Kurt tonight, it was going to have to be now. A sudden tangle of emotions settled in the pit of her stomach, and she took a deep breath to calm herself.
"Morgan? Is something wrong?" Kurt asked. She sighed, and untangled herself from his warm embrace, settling on the other end of the couch.
"Yes. No. I don't know." She said, frustrated. "Kurt, there's something I have to tell you."
Solemnly, he nodded. "You can tell me anything Morgan." He took her hand in his, and held it gently.
Morgan sighed, and rose, withdrawing her hands from him. It was not that she wanted the support, quite the contrary in fact, but more that she did not want to see his reaction when she told him. She was absolutely terrified, and she felt the most distance between her and him physically, the better.
"Something's happened, that I didn't think could ever happen to me." She said softly, and turned away from him. Crossing her arms, she hugged herself. "Honestly, I never expected it, and I certainly never wanted it. But now that it's here, I can't imagine doing anything else but finishing it."
The couch squeaked as Kurt shifted. "Morgan, please, tell me what is troubling you."
"I wouldn't have even brought it up Kurt, but it's something that affects you too. From this moment on, our lives are never ever going to be the same." She said. Then, she took a deep breath.
"I'm pregnant."
Thanks everyone for reading along with me so far. I promise you, a whole lot of things about Morgan are going to start making sense over the next few chapters. You're going to have to bear with me, cause it's going to seem like I'm delving into the realm of Mary-Sueish-ness again, but trust me, it's not at all what you're expecting.
Hopefully I'll have another chapter up by the end of the week, and I'm sorry this one is so short, but I didn't want to overload it with extraneous detail, and I DEFINITELY wanted to end with a cliffhanger (Because, well, it's me and, frankly, I'm evil.)