An ache between her legs brought Morgana back out of her sweet dreams. She felt two muscular arms wrapped around her in a tight possessive grip. As the golden morning sun poured into the bedroom, Morgana couldn't help but examine Maegor's sleeping form.
He had enjoyed spending the night showing her exactly what pleasures she had been denied. The bond hummed between them stronger than Morgana had ever felt a bond before. It was as if his feelings were her own. Like they were no longer two separate souls but halves of a whole.
Maegor felt her shift in his arms, unconsciously pulling her closer to his chest as he blinked awake. For the first time in a very long time, the prince felt completely at peace. That raging fire that burned within him did not feel as angry. His eyes finally adjusted to the new morning light and all he could see was her.
He too felt the... completeness.
He felt starved for her. As if sleep was an inconvenience keeping them apart. He moved lazily to connect his lips to hers, a cool burning pushing him even further awake. He couldn't understand how he lived before her, how he continued to take breath before she existed to him.
His arousal hit him once again, the bond creating an almost insatiable need for her. He felt her magic buzzing beneath his skin, begging him to take her once more as he had again and again the previous night.
A light knock broke through the early morning bliss.
"Fuck off," Maegor growled.
Unfortunately for the servant boy on the other side of the door, he misheard and came into the room. The boy's eyes landed on the naked chest of Morgana and a wild blush covered his pale cheeks. At this, something in Maegor snapped. It was as if he turned into a true dragon in his possessive rage. He pulled the sword from his side table. The very next second the raging white noise faded and all Maegor could hear was the dull thud of the servant boy's head hitting the ground followed quickly by the body it was removed from.
Maegor froze for a second confused.
He had never felt such unadulterated rage before. Sure Maegor was never the most calm man, in fact, most would say he was as firey and quick to anger as a dragon. But something felt different about this carnal instinctual rage.
All he knew was the boy looked at what was his and for that he had to die. He turned to see a horrified Morgana. "The fuck was that?" She muttered to herself, though it was also aimed at him.
"What the fuck just happened to me?" Maegor asked himself, looking down at his blood-soaked hands. He didn't even feel guilty.
It was then that Visenya entered the room, "Fucking hells, Maegor." She turned avoiding looking at her naked blood-soaked son. In doing so, she found herself making eye contact with Morgana, "Oh... I see."
"Mother, what just happened to me?" Maegor asked, slightly terrified at his own actions that felt out of his control.
"The bond... You completed the bond. It has some side effects."
"Like what, a fear of necks?" Morgana asked, still glancing at the servant boy's decapitated head.
"Increased sexual appetite, possessiveness, aggression, protectiveness... Basically, you will want to kill any man or woman that looks at her... Drink some milk of the poppy it numbs the rage a bit." Visenya said.
With that, she left the room leaving two confused people and a headless corpse.
She had never really done it before but if Voldemort could broadcast his dramatic threats into the minds of a population of Wizards, she could too.
Visenya stood on her right, Maegor's wives stood a few steps below her, and Maegor himself approached the dias dressed in the traditional Targaryen colors.
His white hair was styled, tamed from its crazed state from their morning. If Morgana was completely honest, she was having some trouble standing after their nightly activities. She noticed the nervous edge in his eyes as his fingers clenched trying not to reach for her.
As Maegor came to kneel before her, she took Aegon's crown, the same one she had transfigured so long ago. Magic filled the air as she reached her mind all through Westeros. She knew she couldn't hold it long, but it was enough to get the point across.
"I am Morgana Slytherin, Lady of the most Ancient and Noble house of Slytherin, the Dragon Witch, speaker of Serpents. I stand on the dias of Dragonstone, as I did so long ago. I'm holding the same crown I made for the conqueror Aegon. Today, as I did so long ago, I crown a new king. Do you, Maegor Targaryen promise to lead and protect this realm and it's people to the best of your abilities?" Her voice echoed through the minds of every member of Westeros. Flashes of what she saw were painted across their minds. The entire realm was watching as the throne was usurped.
"I do."
"Then by all the power in me, I name the King Maegor Targaryen, the first of his name, King of the Andals, and the Rhoynar, and the First Men Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm. All hail King Maegor!" The crown was delicately placed on his head and the people of Dragonstone cheered for their knew king.
A few days and a few more decapitations later, they stood in the center of Kingslanding. Morgana hadn't recognized it, based on how no castle stood.
It was then she recognized why she was still here. The marks were fading quicker to grey but it was the slowest they'd gone.
Maegor watched her as she closed her eyes, stepping to the middle of the keep. Or where the keep would be in a moment.
He felt her magic stretch through the ground around them as if it knew the plan without her orders.
Her hands spread and she allowed Mother magic to use her as a tool for her bidding. Magic erupted from the ground as particles of stone floated through the air, twisting and forming walls and steps, The ground shifted beneath their feet, changing in a magnificent display. Golden tendrils of wild magic swam through the air, crafting the Red Keep exactly how she remembered it.
She remembered the courtyards and the secret passages Aegon ii showed her. She focused on the details she remembered, forcing flowers and gardens to bloom.
The palace took shape around them. What would take men decades to build took the great Dragon Witch only a few moments.
The people watched in awe as the queen could have been, brought a new beginning into existence.
That night after exploring the new red keep all day, Morgana pulled Maegor into the King's chambers.
He kissed her, smiling as he did. He was growing increasingly addicted to the taste of Morgana Slytherin.
"I have a gift for you..." Morgana whispered.
"More than my crown, my kingdom, and my keep? You have given me enough, Morgana." He smiled burying his face in her neck.
"Just look!" She handed him the paper. He examined it, looking at both sides of the blank piece of paper. "... A scrap of parchment... Thank you?" he looked at her, his purple eyes alight with questions.
"Watch the page... I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." As she finished the phrase, the ink appeared on the paper. Maegor's Map.
Maegor watched the moving footsteps in awe, "Does this map show-"
"Everyone. Where they are, what they're doing, every minute of every day. Brilliant isn't it?" She smiled, "And when you're done, so no one but the king can read it all you have to say is 'Mischief managed'. I thought you might like it."
Before she even turned her head, his lips were on hers, worshiping her like the goddess she was.
"Marry me." He whispered as his brow rested against hers.
A sad sigh escaped her mouth, "I can not... My markings shall be black soon... By morning I shall be gone."
His eyes shot to hers, panic and rage clear in his gaze. "What?"
"I can never stay. Doomed to love but never keep, it is my curse Maegor."
"You're a witch break it!"
"I know not how... I will return to you one day. I know that much... Please don't mourn me, darling, there's no use in it."
He pulled her closer, dread pooling in his stomach and for a moment he wondered if this was the sadness that always glistened in his father's eyes. If this was the absence that was always there in the conqueror. Not greed but longing.
Morgana Slytherin was difficult to love, but impossible not to.