as was Arthur when she wielded Excalibur, and Camelot had
gained too many allies during the years. The fighting was quick and decisive,
yet it acted as a distraction and allowed Morgana to escape from the city,
leaving behind the life she had ever known.
She
had been eighteen years old.
It
didn’t take long for her to realize she wouldn’t be able to survive on her own,
but she tried anyway, knowing that at any moment her father’s men might find
her and drag her back.
She
felt free like when she had been a child; she had no worries, she had no
destined fate – she could live her own life.
It
didn’t last and in the end she was captured as she had feared – not by her
father – but by Nimue, one of Merlin’s most dangerous enemies.
When
Morgana met Nimue she had been both terrified and intrigued.
The
woman was powerful and above all she was willing to teach Morgana, show her how
the world worked and what she could do with magic, but there was always a price
to pay for Nimue’s mercies.
Where
Morgana was concerned that price was, most often than not, paid between the
witch’s bed sheets, the princess having to surrender her body and spirit to
Nimue’s ministrations.
The
times when Nimue requested another payment were worse.
Nimue
was a sadist – someone who took pleasure in the pain and humiliation of others
– and Morgana learned soon enough she preferred the humiliation of being the
woman’s whore than of being her victim.
Morgan
spent three years in Nimue’s company. Sometimes she couldn’t help but feel it
was ironic in a way; she had fled from her home to be free of a marriage to a
woman and ended in a worse situation, in the clutches of a far scarier female,
someone much more interested in her body than Arthur had been.
It
made Morgana hate even more, yet her hate wasn’t directed at Nimue – it was
directed at her father, at Merlin and at Arthur. It was their fault she was
there, because they wouldn’t let her be free.
At
least Nimue had made her powerful.
Eventually
Merlin caught up to Nimue and the woman was killed. Morgana was forced to flee
once again, but now she was powerful enough to live and thrive on her own.
She
managed to escape Arthur’s reach for another two years, but eventually Camelot
caught up to her.
*****
Morgana
shook her head, her curly black hair swaying from side to side, hearing the
sound of the Arthur’s knights storming her fortress. She couldn’t think about
the past, not when she needed to get moving.
Quickly,
she grabbed her grimoire and a few other items from her study and moved,
running towards her room, while armored men climbed the stairs towards her
position.
“Wait,
stop in the name of the king.” Someone shouted, but she ignored him, running
even faster.
Whoever
ordered her to stop cursed and followed.
Morgana
entered her room and closed the door, casting a spell in it afterwards. The
wooden door flashed blue for a moment and it didn’t budge when someone crashed
against it a few moments later.
Morgana
sighed and gathered her clothes, moving as fast as she could. She wasn’t as
powerful as Merlin and, if the wizard was amongst the attackers, she needed to
escape before he reached her.
She
put all the items she had collected in a burlap sack, careful not to joggle
them too hard, before she started to cast the spell that would transport her
out of the fortress. It wasn’t easy – it was a very hard spell and it took
time– but she believed she would be able to finish it before her attackers broke
in.
A
moment later she was proved wrong as the door splintered into little twigs of
wood.
Morgana
blinked in startlement as she saw who had done it, her spell wavering for some
moments before she managed to retain control of it.
Arthur
lowered Excalibur and focused on Morgana, seeing her former fiancée for the
first time in years.
“It’s
over Morgana.” She said after a few moments.
Morgana
blinked again, still surprised, but shook her
gained too many allies during the years. The fighting was quick and decisive,
yet it acted as a distraction and allowed Morgana to escape from the city,
leaving behind the life she had ever known.
She
had been eighteen years old.
It
didn’t take long for her to realize she wouldn’t be able to survive on her own,
but she tried anyway, knowing that at any moment her father’s men might find
her and drag her back.
She
felt free like when she had been a child; she had no worries, she had no
destined fate – she could live her own life.
It
didn’t last and in the end she was captured as she had feared – not by her
father – but by Nimue, one of Merlin’s most dangerous enemies.
When
Morgana met Nimue she had been both terrified and intrigued.
The
woman was powerful and above all she was willing to teach Morgana, show her how
the world worked and what she could do with magic, but there was always a price
to pay for Nimue’s mercies.
Where
Morgana was concerned that price was, most often than not, paid between the
witch’s bed sheets, the princess having to surrender her body and spirit to
Nimue’s ministrations.
The
times when Nimue requested another payment were worse.
Nimue
was a sadist – someone who took pleasure in the pain and humiliation of others
– and Morgana learned soon enough she preferred the humiliation of being the
woman’s whore than of being her victim.
Morgan
spent three years in Nimue’s company. Sometimes she couldn’t help but feel it
was ironic in a way; she had fled from her home to be free of a marriage to a
woman and ended in a worse situation, in the clutches of a far scarier female,
someone much more interested in her body than Arthur had been.
It
made Morgana hate even more, yet her hate wasn’t directed at Nimue – it was
directed at her father, at Merlin and at Arthur. It was their fault she was
there, because they wouldn’t let her be free.
At
least Nimue had made her powerful.
Eventually
Merlin caught up to Nimue and the woman was killed. Morgana was forced to flee
once again, but now she was powerful enough to live and thrive on her own.
She
managed to escape Arthur’s reach for another two years, but eventually Camelot
caught up to her.
*****
Morgana
shook her head, her curly black hair swaying from side to side, hearing the
sound of the Arthur’s knights storming her fortress. She couldn’t think about
the past, not when she needed to get moving.
Quickly,
she grabbed her grimoire and a few other items from her study and moved,
running towards her room, while armored men climbed the stairs towards her
position.
“Wait,
stop in the name of the king.” Someone shouted, but she ignored him, running
even faster.
Whoever
ordered her to stop cursed and followed.
Morgana
entered her room and closed the door, casting a spell in it afterwards. The
wooden door flashed blue for a moment and it didn’t budge when someone crashed
against it a few moments later.
Morgana
sighed and gathered her clothes, moving as fast as she could. She wasn’t as
powerful as Merlin and, if the wizard was amongst the attackers, she needed to
escape before he reached her.
She
put all the items she had collected in a burlap sack, careful not to joggle
them too hard, before she started to cast the spell that would transport her
out of the fortress. It wasn’t easy – it was a very hard spell and it took
time– but she believed she would be able to finish it before her attackers broke
in.
A
moment later she was proved wrong as the door splintered into little twigs of
wood.
Morgana
blinked in startlement as she saw who had done it, her spell wavering for some
moments before she managed to retain control of it.
Arthur
lowered Excalibur and focused on Morgana, seeing her former fiancée for the
first time in years.
“It’s
over Morgana.” She said after a few moments.
Morgana
blinked again, still surprised, but shook her
Similar Books
