#xniveus

Send me §, for my muse's reaction to yours slowly slipping a knife into their chest.

//wHY WOULD YOU SEND THIS??

"And once we’re there, we can take the throne- Arthur will be nowhere in sig-“

Her breath was cut short in her throat and a gasp ensued out into the air. For a second, all thoughts left her and she had no recollection of what she was even talking about. Instead, all she could feel was the cold sting of a blade as it melted into her skin and twisted within her.

Morgana tried to inhale air, the agony of the wound now taking hold of her as the blade slipped deeper and deeper. Her eyes caught hold of Aithusa’s and there they lingered, afraid to switch glances; afraid to move.

                    Was this real? Did her beloved dragon really stab her?

“W-why would you-” But she couldn’t complete her sentences, because as she even tried to speak the pain in her side yelled out and forced the oxygen from her, as though the knife demanded she stop trying to fight it and admit defeat.

                    But defeat for what? What had she done that Aithusa had not already known of? What had she done that deserved this?

                                                     That deserved death.

Morgana wanted to feel angry, to tear Aithusa to pieces and fight back with every ounce of energy she had left, but she could not. Because she was filled with a sudden sadness.

                    The feeling of betrayal stung harder than any blade could.

Within moments, the priestess dropped to her knees, feeling her own blood saturate her clothes as the wound in her side hung open, allowing death in. Each breath became harder, but the pain was slipping away; she felt cold and weak.

                    But she had so much left to say, so much left to understand.

                                        ”Why?”

Her voice broke through the eerie silence like a wave, breaking in a sob as she looked up to her old friend, the one and only thing she cared about; that she’d kill for. But instead, her love had cost her everything, as it always did.

If she knew her wrongs against the white dragon, then she surely would have fixed them; for to harm Aithusa was one thing she could never do. Now she was reminded that her feelings were not mutual in the very least. Nothing mattered anymore, not Arthur or Emrys or her crown.

The only thing that mattered was Aithusa, and how Morgana would soon lie alone and cold and dead, knowing she had wronged her in some way she could not fix.

                                         "Where are you?"

The priestess' voice broke through the eerie silence like a knife; cold and sharp as the tones echoed off the walls. The nightmares plagued her every night, the same ones of that hole she'd been thrown down for years, to rot and wither away. 

But her beloved friend had helped her escape and ever since, Morgana needed her close; people would try to hurt Aithusa, to harm her and take her away; she was the only thing Morgana cared for. In fact she had never felt comforted by anything so much, since Morgause, her sweet sister that was taken from her by the vicious and irritable Merlin who would soon get his death served to him by the hands of the witch.

                                                "Where are you— Aithusa?"

Panic filled the voice of priestess, her eyes wide and searching for any form of life in the darkness, as she pulled herself from the warm comforts of her bed to stagger out into the lonely dark hallways of her Kingdom of coldness, Ismere. Every time she called and Aithusa did not reply, Morgana felt as though someone was tightening a grasp around her neck, cutting off her breath that would steal out of her lips.

     Two long years had finally come to an end. In a lapse of judgement, Sarrum had left the grate unlatched; a mistake that wouldn't have to his knowledge jeopardized his grasp on them. Little did he know, they had broken free of their chains months ago. The time since was spent just awaiting a moment such as this. 

           "Oh no..." Mary complained as she tugged on the reigns of her horse, feeling small spits of rain fall down on her skin which didn't help matters.

           Around her was nothing by trees, and it was so difficult to find her way back or if she would before dark, but panicking would do no good. 

Was it

           T H I S  W A Y

                                          or

                                                       T H A T

           Hoping down from her horse, the young Queen trailed her horse around until she caught a glimpse of a white haired female, at least it looked so from afar.

                                            "—Excuse me!"

I think you forgot one for me, dearie. uwu