Maxim/Morgana Stories

Not Alone (T)

Gracefully stepping down from the horse was Morgana Le Fay, walking her mare to her stable. "Hello Auntie Morgana," Mordred crooned with a plastered smile, "how was your ride?"

"Pleasant," she replied as she pulled an apple out of her satchel and fed it to her mare. She briefly glanced at to Maxim then back to Mordred. "What is going here?"

"I'm having the Merlinean oaf—"

"Mordred..." she interrupted in a warning tone.

"I meant Horvath," he corrected. "He's cleaning the stables per your request." Morgana quirked an eyebrow then looked over to Maxim.

"I see." Morgana then looked back at Mordred. "I'm going to get wash up."

"Of course, Auntie." Before she left the stables, Mordred stopped her again. Then he leaned in close to her ear, in a lowered voice, "Your orders were carried out."

"Thank you." She walked out after that. Maxim then had to admit that Morgana was a very attractive woman, though this wasn't the first time he thought that. The thought crossed his mind throughout the many times he was forced to face her in battle. She fascinated him then by the way she fought. There was a certain elegance to it, how she blasted her enemies, how she wielded a sword. It was like watching an elaborate dance by a goddess. But of course, that goddess had to be Morgana Le Fay, a highborn woman who cares nothing of human life, based on the many raids and attacks done throughout Britain under her name.

Maxim shook his head at the thought. He had no right to look at her like that anyway. He was merely a commoner and she is royalty. She would surely maim him if she found out that he had a sliver of attraction to her.

"Hurry up, you louse!"

Later on that week, Tintagel Castle held a grand celebration, presumably for the recent raid on a nearby town. It was as lively as twelfth day of Christmas throughout the grand hall of the castle. Food, drink, merriment all around for all the Morganians. While Maxim attended, he was in no way celebrating. From what he heard, the last raid was a massacre and he didn't support unnecessary deaths.

He chewed on a piece of venison as he took in his surroundings. Against the sea of festivities stood Morgana sitting alone at the head of the table. Maxim wondered why she didn't socialize and mingle with the other Morganians during the party. In fact, now that he thought about it, Maxim never seen Morgana socialize with any of the other Morganians. She's either by herself or discussing future plans with the others to take Britain and then the world.

For a moment, he locked eyes with her and noticed something in the way she looked at him. However, he didn't have time to analyze it as she stood up and excused herself from the room.
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The days continued like normal—Raids, celebrations either grand or small depending on the loot gathered. Maxim saw Morgana only in passing then, but noticed that she seemed distant. Maxim at the time has no intention of getting to know her, but that was until he called down to one of her meetings among her closest allies.

As he drew near the door, he could hear murmuring on the other side. He knocked to announce his presence, silencing the voices inside.

"Come in."

All eyes were locked on Maxim as soon as he entered the room. His own eyes scanned the room to see who was in was in attendance. Among those in the room was of course, Morgana, her nephew, and two of her allied lords, Lord Mark of Cornwall and King Urien of Rheged. Accolon, one of her Morganian followers, was also present.

"You sent for me, your grace?" Maxim asked Morgana, bowing before her.

"Yes, I did," She replied. "Take a seat." Maxim nodded, obeying her order. Morgana then turned to address the rest of the room.