Fic: Strange Bedfellows
Aug. 4th, 2010 06:34 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
netgirl_y2kTitle: Strange Bedfellows
Fandom: Merlin/Legend of the Seeker
Characters: Morgana, Gwen
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1510
Summary: In which Morgana is the Mother Confessor, Gwen is a Mord'Sith and together they take over Camelot, as you do.
Morgana closed her eyes and lay perfectly still. This close to Camelot she'd never be able to sleep, but she could at least try to rest.
She could make out the quiet footfalls of Guinevere pacing the camp as she kept watch. The first week after Guinevere had joined her, Morgana hadn't been able to sleep, afraid that if she did she'd wake with the Mord'Sith's agiel at her throat. A ridiculous thought, the Sisters of the Agiel had sent Guinevere to protect and aid Morgana on her quest.
It was almost enough to make Morgana laugh. The Confessors and the Mord'Sith have been blood enemies since time immemorial, but now they have a common enemy in the form of Uther Pendragon and Morgana has a Mord'Sith bodyguard.
Guinevere's footfalls stopped. "When I was a child undergoing training, I used to pretend to be asleep in the hope that the older Mord'Sith would pass me by."
"Did it ever work?" Morgana asked without opening her eyes.
"No. And it won't work for you. If you aren't going to sleep, you could at least stand watch and allow me to rest."
Morgana dragged herself to her feet and watched as Guinevere took her place on the still warm bedroll. She paced the edges of their camp to keep warm, being on watch meant staying some distance from the fire so not to blinded to things moving in the dark.
"We'll reach Camelot tomorrow," said Guinevere, startling Morgana, who'd thought her companion already asleep.
"Yes," said Morgana, and then, "I haven't been to Camelot since I was an infant. My father was one of Uther's most trusted knights, did you know that?"
"He was confessed to your mother?"
"Yes, and when she died birthing me the spell was broken. Uther ordered him to dash my brains out to prove his loyalty, he refused."
"I was born in Camelot too," said Guinevere.
Morgana was surprised. Of course she knew that Mord'Sith didn't sprout fully-grown from the ground already wielding agiels, but it was odd to think of them as once having had mothers and fathers and toys to play with. "Really?"
"My mother worked in a tavern and died when I was very small, my father was a blacksmith and when I was six years old the Mord'Sith came for me."
"What happened?" Morgana asked, edging back towards the fire.
"I was rescued from the nasty Mord'Sith and grew up to nurse injured kittens, obviously."
"You should sleep," said Morgana.
"As you command, Mother Confessor," said Guinevere, as though taking some perverse pleasure in using the title she knew Morgana hated.
Of course, Guinevere knew that Morgana was only the Mother Confessor because she was the only one who'd survived when Uther had sent his army to massacre the Order of Confessors. The King of Camelot had intended for the Mord'Sith to fall next, but the sisters had been warned by Morgana and the Confessors fate and they'd been able to ambush the approaching knights.
In her dark moments, Morgana thought that she was the last person in the world who should be entrusted with the line of Confessors. In her darker moments, she thought that it was pretty easy being the leader of a dead race, there was no one left to argue with her.
*
Since leaving the Mord'Sith temple they'd been travelling incognito, but Morgana wanted Uther Pendragon to know who was coming for him. So at dawn Guinevere pulled on her red Mord'Sith leather and strapped her agiels to her hips. She would have put her hair up in a braid, but she'd cut it as part of her disguise and now it was too short. Morgana thought she looked a bit glorious with her dark curls hanging down over her face.
Morgana dressed in her white Confessor's dress. She strapped a sword across her back in addition to slipping a dagger into her boot. In truth, Morgana was a so-so swordswoman, better than most women and a lot of men only by virtue of having been trained since childhood. In a fight she was much more likely to lash out with magic or stand back and let Guinevere do the fighting. But it was her father's sword, and he hadn't killed her when Uther Pendragon ordered him to so she was going to carry it today come hell or high water.
"Are you ready?" she asked.
Guinevere looked her up and down critically. "Is that dress practical to fight in?"
*
Morgana lost Guinevere somewhere in Camelot's market. So the plan got off to a great start. Luckily a lot of the traders only came to Camelot for market day and still thought of Confessors as people to be respected and sought after, rather than hunted and killed. Morgana was less sure of how they'd feel about an armed Mord'Sith.
She finally came upon Guinevere at an abandoned building towards the edges of the market. The Mord'Sith was staring at the ground, idly kicking over rubble.
"It's so sad," said the trader whose stall Morgana happened to have stopped by.
Before, Morgana had felt that people feeling compelled to share things with her had been the worst part of being a Confessor, but now she positively encouraged it. "What's sad?"
"I lived in town about twenty years ago and that house belonged to Tom the blacksmith and his daughter. Gwen, he called her. One night the Mord'Sith took her."
"What happened to the father?" Morgana tried to look interested in some of the merchant's fabrics so as to encourage her to tell her story.
"Oh, he packed up, sold everything of value off. Said he was going to do whatever it took to get his daughter back. Never returned. They'll have killed him, of course, the Mord'Sith. Everyone knows that's what happens to parents who get too close. I guess Gwen's dead too, a girl that sweet would never have survived Mord'Sith training."
"Excuse me," said Morgana, and headed over to the ruined smithy. "Hey," she reached for Guinevere's shoulder, "Gwen."
Guienvere whirled and suddenly there was an agiel at Morgana's throat. "Don't call me that."
"I... Guinevere..."
"We should get up to the castle, I thought you had a job to do."
*
They cut an impressive pair on the main road to the castle, Guinevere in Mord'Sith red, Morgana in Confessor white. But men trained by Uther Pendragon refused to believe that they were in any danger from two women, regardless of their powers.
There were only three knights waiting for them at the main gate. The first was felled by a blow to the throat from Guinevere's agiel. The second slashed his sword at Morgana, she dodged the blow, grabbed his wrist, jerked him forward and caught him by the throat just underneath his beard, letting loose the confessor magic always boiling just beneath her skin. Their third opponent was bested by the knight now confessed to Morgana.
"Command me, Confessor," said the bearded knight, dropping to bended knee.
"Open the gates," ordered Morgana.
*
"Sir Leon! What's going on?"
Morgana heard the shout almost as soon as the bearded knight led them into the castle's courtyard. A young blonde man in armour was running towards them full pelt, drawing a sword.
"Arthur, no!"
Morgana snapped her head in the direction of the shout. A skinny, dark haired boy was rushing down the castle steps trying to get between Morgana and Arthur. He stopped, thrust his hand out and wizard's fire shot from his palm.
Morgana's breath caught in her throat until Guinevere stepped into the path of the fire, held her palm up and the spell vanished as though it had never been cast.
Morgana knew the Mord'Sith's ability to neutralise magic would come in useful. She watched Guinevere stalk towards the warlock who was now backpeddling and muttering spells that wouldn't work, and turned to face Arthur.
Arthur had been trained for combat, but raised in ignorance of magic.
He all but ran straight into Morgana's grasp.
Morgana had time to glance over and see Guinevere force the wizard to the ground. She looked back to see Arthur Pendragon on his knees gazing up at her with a look of undisguised adoration.
"Command me, Confessor."
"Kill your father."
"At once, mistress." The prince jumped to his feet and drew his sword. "Sir Leon, with me."
Morgana watched them depart. Once Arthur had disposed of Uther she would take him as a mate. The next generation of Confessors would be of the Pendragon dynasty, they'd be untouchable.
She crossed the courtyard to where Guinevere had Arthur's wizard pinned against the steps.
"Can I keep him?" Guinevere asked. "I've never trained a wizard before."
Morgana had been trained to hate Mord'Sith, to find their methods abhorrent, they took innocent girls and turned them into women who tortured men past breaking point. But Uther had started this.
She smiled fondly at Guinevere. "Of course. But try to make sure that I won't hear the screaming up in the throne room."
Fandom: Merlin/Legend of the Seeker
Characters: Morgana, Gwen
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1510
Summary: In which Morgana is the Mother Confessor, Gwen is a Mord'Sith and together they take over Camelot, as you do.
Morgana closed her eyes and lay perfectly still. This close to Camelot she'd never be able to sleep, but she could at least try to rest.
She could make out the quiet footfalls of Guinevere pacing the camp as she kept watch. The first week after Guinevere had joined her, Morgana hadn't been able to sleep, afraid that if she did she'd wake with the Mord'Sith's agiel at her throat. A ridiculous thought, the Sisters of the Agiel had sent Guinevere to protect and aid Morgana on her quest.
It was almost enough to make Morgana laugh. The Confessors and the Mord'Sith have been blood enemies since time immemorial, but now they have a common enemy in the form of Uther Pendragon and Morgana has a Mord'Sith bodyguard.
Guinevere's footfalls stopped. "When I was a child undergoing training, I used to pretend to be asleep in the hope that the older Mord'Sith would pass me by."
"Did it ever work?" Morgana asked without opening her eyes.
"No. And it won't work for you. If you aren't going to sleep, you could at least stand watch and allow me to rest."
Morgana dragged herself to her feet and watched as Guinevere took her place on the still warm bedroll. She paced the edges of their camp to keep warm, being on watch meant staying some distance from the fire so not to blinded to things moving in the dark.
"We'll reach Camelot tomorrow," said Guinevere, startling Morgana, who'd thought her companion already asleep.
"Yes," said Morgana, and then, "I haven't been to Camelot since I was an infant. My father was one of Uther's most trusted knights, did you know that?"
"He was confessed to your mother?"
"Yes, and when she died birthing me the spell was broken. Uther ordered him to dash my brains out to prove his loyalty, he refused."
"I was born in Camelot too," said Guinevere.
Morgana was surprised. Of course she knew that Mord'Sith didn't sprout fully-grown from the ground already wielding agiels, but it was odd to think of them as once having had mothers and fathers and toys to play with. "Really?"
"My mother worked in a tavern and died when I was very small, my father was a blacksmith and when I was six years old the Mord'Sith came for me."
"What happened?" Morgana asked, edging back towards the fire.
"I was rescued from the nasty Mord'Sith and grew up to nurse injured kittens, obviously."
"You should sleep," said Morgana.
"As you command, Mother Confessor," said Guinevere, as though taking some perverse pleasure in using the title she knew Morgana hated.
Of course, Guinevere knew that Morgana was only the Mother Confessor because she was the only one who'd survived when Uther had sent his army to massacre the Order of Confessors. The King of Camelot had intended for the Mord'Sith to fall next, but the sisters had been warned by Morgana and the Confessors fate and they'd been able to ambush the approaching knights.
In her dark moments, Morgana thought that she was the last person in the world who should be entrusted with the line of Confessors. In her darker moments, she thought that it was pretty easy being the leader of a dead race, there was no one left to argue with her.
*
Since leaving the Mord'Sith temple they'd been travelling incognito, but Morgana wanted Uther Pendragon to know who was coming for him. So at dawn Guinevere pulled on her red Mord'Sith leather and strapped her agiels to her hips. She would have put her hair up in a braid, but she'd cut it as part of her disguise and now it was too short. Morgana thought she looked a bit glorious with her dark curls hanging down over her face.
Morgana dressed in her white Confessor's dress. She strapped a sword across her back in addition to slipping a dagger into her boot. In truth, Morgana was a so-so swordswoman, better than most women and a lot of men only by virtue of having been trained since childhood. In a fight she was much more likely to lash out with magic or stand back and let Guinevere do the fighting. But it was her father's sword, and he hadn't killed her when Uther Pendragon ordered him to so she was going to carry it today come hell or high water.
"Are you ready?" she asked.
Guinevere looked her up and down critically. "Is that dress practical to fight in?"
*
Morgana lost Guinevere somewhere in Camelot's market. So the plan got off to a great start. Luckily a lot of the traders only came to Camelot for market day and still thought of Confessors as people to be respected and sought after, rather than hunted and killed. Morgana was less sure of how they'd feel about an armed Mord'Sith.
She finally came upon Guinevere at an abandoned building towards the edges of the market. The Mord'Sith was staring at the ground, idly kicking over rubble.
"It's so sad," said the trader whose stall Morgana happened to have stopped by.
Before, Morgana had felt that people feeling compelled to share things with her had been the worst part of being a Confessor, but now she positively encouraged it. "What's sad?"
"I lived in town about twenty years ago and that house belonged to Tom the blacksmith and his daughter. Gwen, he called her. One night the Mord'Sith took her."
"What happened to the father?" Morgana tried to look interested in some of the merchant's fabrics so as to encourage her to tell her story.
"Oh, he packed up, sold everything of value off. Said he was going to do whatever it took to get his daughter back. Never returned. They'll have killed him, of course, the Mord'Sith. Everyone knows that's what happens to parents who get too close. I guess Gwen's dead too, a girl that sweet would never have survived Mord'Sith training."
"Excuse me," said Morgana, and headed over to the ruined smithy. "Hey," she reached for Guinevere's shoulder, "Gwen."
Guienvere whirled and suddenly there was an agiel at Morgana's throat. "Don't call me that."
"I... Guinevere..."
"We should get up to the castle, I thought you had a job to do."
*
They cut an impressive pair on the main road to the castle, Guinevere in Mord'Sith red, Morgana in Confessor white. But men trained by Uther Pendragon refused to believe that they were in any danger from two women, regardless of their powers.
There were only three knights waiting for them at the main gate. The first was felled by a blow to the throat from Guinevere's agiel. The second slashed his sword at Morgana, she dodged the blow, grabbed his wrist, jerked him forward and caught him by the throat just underneath his beard, letting loose the confessor magic always boiling just beneath her skin. Their third opponent was bested by the knight now confessed to Morgana.
"Command me, Confessor," said the bearded knight, dropping to bended knee.
"Open the gates," ordered Morgana.
*
"Sir Leon! What's going on?"
Morgana heard the shout almost as soon as the bearded knight led them into the castle's courtyard. A young blonde man in armour was running towards them full pelt, drawing a sword.
"Arthur, no!"
Morgana snapped her head in the direction of the shout. A skinny, dark haired boy was rushing down the castle steps trying to get between Morgana and Arthur. He stopped, thrust his hand out and wizard's fire shot from his palm.
Morgana's breath caught in her throat until Guinevere stepped into the path of the fire, held her palm up and the spell vanished as though it had never been cast.
Morgana knew the Mord'Sith's ability to neutralise magic would come in useful. She watched Guinevere stalk towards the warlock who was now backpeddling and muttering spells that wouldn't work, and turned to face Arthur.
Arthur had been trained for combat, but raised in ignorance of magic.
He all but ran straight into Morgana's grasp.
Morgana had time to glance over and see Guinevere force the wizard to the ground. She looked back to see Arthur Pendragon on his knees gazing up at her with a look of undisguised adoration.
"Command me, Confessor."
"Kill your father."
"At once, mistress." The prince jumped to his feet and drew his sword. "Sir Leon, with me."
Morgana watched them depart. Once Arthur had disposed of Uther she would take him as a mate. The next generation of Confessors would be of the Pendragon dynasty, they'd be untouchable.
She crossed the courtyard to where Guinevere had Arthur's wizard pinned against the steps.
"Can I keep him?" Guinevere asked. "I've never trained a wizard before."
Morgana had been trained to hate Mord'Sith, to find their methods abhorrent, they took innocent girls and turned them into women who tortured men past breaking point. But Uther had started this.
She smiled fondly at Guinevere. "Of course. But try to make sure that I won't hear the screaming up in the throne room."