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tamingthemuseTitle: Poison
Fandom: Arthurian legends
Prompt: Prompt 453 - Ooze
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: I didn't take the time to argue. By merely not being present at the exact moment my mother wished me by her side, I was late.
"Mordred, Mordred." The voice sounded far away as if it was reaching me from below the ocean. I grumbled, wishing it away. "Wake up!" The voice echoed loudly in my ears, feeling like it was bouncing against my skull. "Come on, wake up!" Hands shook me. I opened my eyes and realised I had been dreaming. Molly was standing over me. "Mistress Morgause is asking for you." I rubbed my eyes. "What," I asked slowly. "Mistress Morgause is asking for you," Molly repeated with a new urgency in her tone. The words finally reached me. I jumped out of bed, the cold stone under my bare foot bringing me fully into this world. I went for my wardrobe but Molly stopped me. "No time. You're already late." I didn't take the time to argue. By merely not being present at the exact moment my mother wished me by her side, I was late. I grabbed my coat from a chair and left the room, throwing it over my body as I ran into the corridor. I jumped stairs three at a time on my down to the underground chambers and arrived at the entrance of my mother's bedroom out of breath. I took a moment to recover. I stroke my hair back against my head in a vain attempt to appear more presentable and slid my arms into my coat. If there was one thing Morgause hated more than lateness, it was untidiness. I had never seen one of her flaming red curls out of place. I knocked once. The door opened.
"You summoned me mother?" I bowed low.
"I did. Twenty minutes ago," she replied bluntly.
"I was asleep." I knew it wouldn't be taken as a valuable excuse, nothing ever was.
"This is regrettable. But you are here now, let's get to work."
"Yes mother." I straightened and advanced into the room. She was sitting my the fire, a glass of wine in her hand. The dark liquid swirled into the cup as she invited me to take a seat next to her. I obeyed. She observed my every movements as I strode across the room and finally sat on the stool next to her chair, my back straight. "You are pale my son." "The Orkneys are not the warmest of places in winter." She inclined her head. "He was never that pale." Her eyes glazed over. She brought the glass to her lips in a mechanical gesture. Her arm was bleeding slowly. I realised she had been using one of her lesser poisons that night, intoxicating her blood to open her mind as she called it. I never believed it did. Master Torsted had taught me better about the use of such herbs and I knew how they always killed a person slowly. I bit my tongue not to speak up. "Even in the deep of winter, his skin was dark." I nodded but she remained silent, staring at me for a long time. She leaned toward me and whispered, "He stole the crown from my head, I will not let him steal it from yours." She trailed a finger along my jaw. "The bastard who was king..." She brought her lips to mine. I heard the wine glass crash on the floor. I felt her blood on my cheek as her hand trapped my head against hers. She bit my lip until my own blood was released. I felt her lick the dark liquid as she gripped my hair tight and jerked my head back, sending me off balance. She kicked the stool under me and I fell to the floor. She rose from her chair. "Get back to your room," she ordered her. A grin grew on her face.
Fandom: Arthurian legends
Prompt: Prompt 453 - Ooze
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: I didn't take the time to argue. By merely not being present at the exact moment my mother wished me by her side, I was late.
"Mordred, Mordred." The voice sounded far away as if it was reaching me from below the ocean. I grumbled, wishing it away. "Wake up!" The voice echoed loudly in my ears, feeling like it was bouncing against my skull. "Come on, wake up!" Hands shook me. I opened my eyes and realised I had been dreaming. Molly was standing over me. "Mistress Morgause is asking for you." I rubbed my eyes. "What," I asked slowly. "Mistress Morgause is asking for you," Molly repeated with a new urgency in her tone. The words finally reached me. I jumped out of bed, the cold stone under my bare foot bringing me fully into this world. I went for my wardrobe but Molly stopped me. "No time. You're already late." I didn't take the time to argue. By merely not being present at the exact moment my mother wished me by her side, I was late. I grabbed my coat from a chair and left the room, throwing it over my body as I ran into the corridor. I jumped stairs three at a time on my down to the underground chambers and arrived at the entrance of my mother's bedroom out of breath. I took a moment to recover. I stroke my hair back against my head in a vain attempt to appear more presentable and slid my arms into my coat. If there was one thing Morgause hated more than lateness, it was untidiness. I had never seen one of her flaming red curls out of place. I knocked once. The door opened.
"You summoned me mother?" I bowed low.
"I did. Twenty minutes ago," she replied bluntly.
"I was asleep." I knew it wouldn't be taken as a valuable excuse, nothing ever was.
"This is regrettable. But you are here now, let's get to work."
"Yes mother." I straightened and advanced into the room. She was sitting my the fire, a glass of wine in her hand. The dark liquid swirled into the cup as she invited me to take a seat next to her. I obeyed. She observed my every movements as I strode across the room and finally sat on the stool next to her chair, my back straight. "You are pale my son." "The Orkneys are not the warmest of places in winter." She inclined her head. "He was never that pale." Her eyes glazed over. She brought the glass to her lips in a mechanical gesture. Her arm was bleeding slowly. I realised she had been using one of her lesser poisons that night, intoxicating her blood to open her mind as she called it. I never believed it did. Master Torsted had taught me better about the use of such herbs and I knew how they always killed a person slowly. I bit my tongue not to speak up. "Even in the deep of winter, his skin was dark." I nodded but she remained silent, staring at me for a long time. She leaned toward me and whispered, "He stole the crown from my head, I will not let him steal it from yours." She trailed a finger along my jaw. "The bastard who was king..." She brought her lips to mine. I heard the wine glass crash on the floor. I felt her blood on my cheek as her hand trapped my head against hers. She bit my lip until my own blood was released. I felt her lick the dark liquid as she gripped my hair tight and jerked my head back, sending me off balance. She kicked the stool under me and I fell to the floor. She rose from her chair. "Get back to your room," she ordered her. A grin grew on her face.
