Thread: A Sinister Realm of Fables & Bloodlust (darkangel76 x Rauk)

Through the meadows and forest, a warmth radiated throughout the lush landscape of Camelot as the royal garden silence was interrupted by the subtle awkwardness between Guinevere and her husband and king. At the mention of her ignorance regarding his old customs, the stoic Arthur began to make the connection that that whatever ailed her concerned his family's rites. The differences between his and her ways were minimal in his eyes, but to Guinevere they obviously mattered much more. You need not worry, m'lady, about any such thing. Pray tell, you know that we come from different backgrounds, yet only now are you concerned about this? Arthur gently asked her, in a soft yet kingly manner. A tone that one would use if talking to someone who was both wife and loyal subject. Is it because we... You're still pure? he brought her left hand up once more, kissing her pale skin once again softly. My love, even after you decide the time is right, you will still always be pure in my eyes. Arthur granted her a loving smile, as his cheeks blushed slightly red at the thought of finally consummating their marriage. His rule over Camelot granted him access to nearly any of his desires, though little did Guinevere know, that his desire to lay with her in an intimate manner was his greatest wish at the time being. The barrier between the king and his queen thickened, as he found himself feeling slightly agitated wondering why she refused to get straight to the point and fill him in as to why she was so upset, knowing that it must directly involve something he is involved with. Arthur was able to keep his composure and noble attitude, while the fire ignited and stirred within him. It was surprising to him, the frustration that ensued, perhaps brought on by the hot sun beaming through the skies, causing sweat to begin to profusely cascade down the man's noble brow. With a swift wipe of the back of his left hand across his forehead, Arthur dried the moisture and squinted his eyes at Guinevere. If you're having conflicting emotions, my queen, let us be spontaneous in our love. Why not allow me to take you right here, surrounded by the beauty of Camelot's royal majestic gardens? As soon as the suggestion left the king's honorable lips, he froze. He closed his eyes in regret to what he just said, knowing that his emotions and angst must have gotten the better of him this day. Breaking eye contact with the fair queen, Arthur was now almost too embarrassed to speak any further after his proposition that surprised even himself. Perhaps he loved his queen so much, that she brought a dormant side of him to life, that not even he knew existed. As he waited and almost dreaded her answer, time seemed to stop, and the king felt as if lifetimes had passed in a period of silence. ...Meanwhile, the wizard's tower creaked and moaned as the mid-day breezes whipped past the gnarled construction... A sizzling hiss shrieked out of the bubbling beakers, as the old mysterious gray robed man poured a black smoked substance into a cauldron causing the mixing concoction to erupt with a foul stench that permeated throughout the hermit's tower. Yes... The potion is almost ready. Then finally, he will give me the respect and gratitude I'm due... Merlin stroked his long tangled beard, as he spoke to himself with a cynical tone, standing over the cauldron. His beard acting as a filter, as the black smoke traveled through. The elderly man, with his left hand bracing himself by his hip, turned his shoulder slightly as he heard the knocks against the heavy wooden entrance. By some supernatural sense, Merlin was already aware of Morgan's arrival before she revealed her name. However, he did not want her to realize the true depths of his power. No, she wasn't ready yet. In fact, he himself did not fully understand the potential in with which the power he has invested his meditations into could have over not only Camelot, but himself as well. Come in, Morgan. You've arrived just in time. Merlin closed his eyes, as the latches holding the door closed seemed to unlock before Morgan's very eyes. The door slowly creaked open for her to enter the room. Arthur's half-sister, Morgan, was the only person who the wizard allowed access into his personal life. He felt as though she understood his quarrels with the way Camelot was being ruled, where no one else did. Something had recently snapped in Merlin, forcing him to regret everything he's done for the king, seeing as how he did not receive the gratitude he felt he deserved, and even though he saw himself as the most powerful man in the world, he did not understand why he still must bow down in service to the young Arthur. My dear, why do you trouble yourself with the worries of simpletons such as the ones living in the castle? You know, I can always use your assistance here in my work. You could be a part of great things to come, Morgan. The raspy old voice of the gray wizard sounded, before he returned his gaze upon the boiling multicolored concoction swirling in the black cauldron.