morgana's restlessness touches susan. she recognizes it, wishes she could assure her, but knows from past experience that words only make the necessary sentiments sound trite and childish. morgana will need to find her own path, and susan knows she will.
+
"you miss your brothers?"
"of course. but i have my sister, and we all have our duties."
the queens wear their smiles as easily as they wear their crowns, and morgana envies them for it, is suddenly and acutely aware of how inured she has become to secrets, to being a stranger to uther while he loves her completely, and to have the ability to bend arthur to her will while at the same time keeping him at arm's length because of the smoke-like wisps of warnings in her dreams that tell her what she is not meant to be, what she is not meant to have.
+
her dreams tell her many things, that even as she loses herself in queen susan's arms, it feels familiar. she has been here before.
susan kisses her like edmund does: slow and sweet and a patience that hints at so much more to come.
+
morgana kisses her like peter does: like there is nothing else.
+
"i love the sea," morgana whispers in a reverent tone, uncaring of the wet sand that sticks to her dress, the waves that lap at her shoes. there is nothing like this back in camelot and her wonder is writ on her face, making her beautiful.
susan replies, "it's easy to love what seems endless."
they make their way down the shoreline, talking in low tones of inconsequential things, and behind them the waves wash their footprints away as if they were never there at all.
no subject
morgana's restlessness touches susan. she recognizes it, wishes she could assure her, but knows from past experience that words only make the necessary sentiments sound trite and childish. morgana will need to find her own path, and susan knows she will.
+
"you miss your brothers?"
"of course. but i have my sister, and we all have our duties."
the queens wear their smiles as easily as they wear their crowns, and morgana envies them for it, is suddenly and acutely aware of how inured she has become to secrets, to being a stranger to uther while he loves her completely, and to have the ability to bend arthur to her will while at the same time keeping him at arm's length because of the smoke-like wisps of warnings in her dreams that tell her what she is not meant to be, what she is not meant to have.
+
her dreams tell her many things, that even as she loses herself in queen susan's arms, it feels familiar. she has been here before.
susan kisses her like edmund does: slow and sweet and a patience that hints at so much more to come.
+
morgana kisses her like peter does: like there is nothing else.
+
"i love the sea," morgana whispers in a reverent tone, uncaring of the wet sand that sticks to her dress, the waves that lap at her shoes. there is nothing like this back in camelot and her wonder is writ on her face, making her beautiful.
susan replies, "it's easy to love what seems endless."
they make their way down the shoreline, talking in low tones of inconsequential things, and behind them the waves wash their footprints away as if they were never there at all.