[identity profile] amaranthine-7.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] tamingthemuse
Title: Evening tales
Fandom: Arthurian legends
Prompt: Prompt 450 - Gorgon
Warnings: N/A
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: The Arthurian legends are in the public domain. I make no reference to any copyrighted work. So all is mine.
Beta: None, so any mistakes you see are mine.
Summary: The fire was dwindling the the hearth, casting long shadows in the room. Morgan preferred it this way. Her disfigured face couldn't be made out so clearly.

The fire was dwindling the the hearth, casting long shadows in the room. Morgan preferred it this way. Her disfigured face couldn't be made out so clearly and for one who had never seen her, they could imagine her scars were only a trick of the light. She poked the ashes with a stick. As a few sparks erupted she whispered a few words and new flames danced anew for a minute or so but no warmth came out. As the darkness returned Morgan poured herself a glass of wine and laid back in her chair.

"I was supposed to have died too," she said before taking a sip her drink.

"What?" Mordred lazily voice told her he had been half asleep but she didn't care. It wasn't something he had to remember.

"I was already deformed as a baby. They all said I wouldn't survive. But I did."

Mordred sat upright in his chair as he realised what his aunt was telling him, all drowsiness gone from his posture.

"I often wished I'd die when I was a mere girl. I was kept hidden from all, never presented to anyone and excluded from the court. It was as if I had never even existed... and this is worth than death dear boy." Morgan took another sip of her drink, her fingers tightening around her cup. "Then Uther came along and I really wished I had died. I was used as an alliance tool, married off to a King I had never met and who would never loved me. I was foolish enough then to hope for something different. Of course Uriens never laid hand on me. Death was on my mind all the time. I had even gone as far as preparing dozens of poisons I could administer to myself. I had a plethora of death in my herbs, from slow and painful to instant and painless."

Morgan's eyes trailed to Mordred. "This is when I realised I was more than they all thought of me. They all took me for worthless, a hideous queen to hide away, a necessary bargain in the game of politics. But here I was... standing over my plants and pondering which to take to end my life. This is when I realised I had powers in my hands, power of a kind they didn't know and would never suspect at first." A smile appeared on her lips. "I could kill them, kill them all."

A minute passed and Morgan didn't say anything more but simply stared at her nephew. He felt uneasy in his seat, unsure of what she was telling him. "But you didn't..." he started hesitantly.

"No, I did not," she confirmed quietly. She took one last sip of her wine, placed her cup on the floor next to her chair and rose up. "We should get some rest, a long day awaits us tomorrow."

She walked behind his chair and lazily caressed his hair. "Goodnight dear boy."

It was a long while after she had gone that Mordred finally echoed a whispered reply. "Goodnight my aunt."

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