elfflame (elfflame) wrote in merlin_fanworks, @ 2010-11-30 15:22:00 |
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Fic: The Ruined Throne
Title: The Ruined Throne
Author: elfflame
Pairing: Morgana/Gwen
Rating: NC-17
Summary: She is hers. And has been. Forever.
Word Count: 601
Author's Notes: From this prompt—Gwaine or Morgana or Gwen, time travel, throne room, lap dance, gloves. In an attempt to improve my smut-writing abilities. :) I hope folks enjoy.
"Did he ever fuck you here?" Morgana's voice was dark as she asked the question. "Spread wide on his lap as he lounged on this throne?" Her leather-clad fingers stroked over Gwen's body, sure of their goal as they traced whorls and lines down sweat-damp dark skin.
"Don't, Morgana…" Gwen was glad her skin was too dark to show a blush, but she thought that Morgana could somehow see it regardless.
The castle was a ruin, now, less a building than crumbling walls and pillars with no roof overhead, but they both could see it as clear as the first day Gwen had become Morgana's servant over a millennia ago. The red banners of Camelot hanging behind the great throne. The great hall echoing as Morgana made the formal request of Uther. The throne they now sat upon draped in red and gold just as real as the two of them, Morgana's dark eyes glinting as she smirked at her one-time companion, former foe, now lover.
"And why not?" she asked, her voice as silky. "Brave prince-king… But he never really wanted you. Not the way I do. Not like this." Her fingers moved lower, and Gwen shifted on her lap, pushing up toward her fingers, wanting that feeling of being filled by them. Of being Morgana's again. Even though her fingers were covered, she needed it. She would take them regardless.
It was something she had not had in far too long. Longer than either of these bodies had even been alive. Before they had been born as Morgan Faye and Gwen Smith, in a time when their names were much more grand, and still remembered even in these modern times. Before airplanes and cell phones and University. In a time when servants were almost property, and princes and knights fought for ladies' hearts. In a time when her heart had been Morgana's, even before it had been Arthur's.
"Why here?" she whispered, shivering, even as she felt one still-clad finger circle her clit.
"Because I never want you to forget who you belonged to first," Morgana said, her eyes glinting once more. "You were mine, long before he ever even looked at you." Her finger continued to circle the swollen nub, her free hand sliding up Gwen's back to tangle in her hair and pull her down for a kiss.
Gwen gasped into her open mouth even as Morgana's tongue swept in to claim hers. This was no battle of wills. Gwen conceded happily, eagerly even, pressing her body against her former mistress's. "I could never forget," she whispered.
It seemed to be what Morgana had been waiting for. Her hand disappeared for a moment, even as the two kissed, then bare fingers slid into her, gloves no longer separating them. Gwen's back bowed as she tried to get them deeper, the contact too much to bear, and never enough.
"My Gwen…" Morgana's expression had softened, and she pulled her closer to kiss her again, her fingers stroking deep inside her, her thumb seeking out the nub she had abandoned.
Gwen shifted to press against her fingers, shuddering, right on the edge, then cried out when Morgana's thumb flicked over her once more, the world shattering around her for a moment as she came, her cries echoing back from the broken walls of the ruins of Camelot.
She slumped against Morgana, panting, and Morgana's now-bare hands played across her back lightly as she regained herself.
Once Gwen had caught her breath, she looked up. "Yours," Gwen whispered, meeting Morgana's eyes. "Never leave me again?"
Morgana smiled. "Never," she agreed.