[ morgana doesn't even look to see who it is that appears before her, too caught up in the hell of the changing parts of her body. it's a combination of many things now, with the difficulty in counting the passing days, the dreariness of the darkness, the experimentation that has consumed them β it's much worse than her previous experience, lacking the dragon that had curled at her side, a source to keep her steady and someone to protect. here, even surrounded by so many facing the same circumstances, morgana has never felt more alone.
as the hands grab at her own, she tries to shake them away, protests shouted from her lips. she's been held down before against her will, and if there is anything she doesn't take too well, it's the idea of any man trying to maintain her. right now, though, most of the fury is towards being stopped from ripping the thorns away from her body.
she almost shouts again, when the words fill through her mind like a whisper in the back of her head. it stops her in an instant, as if something blows away the cloud in front of her. for a moment, she thinks she hears mordred, the way their souls became bonded through whispered voices in their minds, a sign that they were connected, that they were one and the same. even with his recent betrayal, his memory can still prove enough to calm her.
but it isn't mordred before her, and she lifts her eyes slowly to see the ones before her β and how could she forget those eyes? the man who isn't a man, the beast who isn't a beast. something other, just as she. when the blood around his eyes appears, she does not recoil.
her own eyes are still wet with her own lucid tears, lips bearing a slight quiver only from her own pain sourced from the throbbing of her arms. ]
It hurts.
[ it also isn't spoken out loud, because it is only that he isn't human that he should be able to hear them from her and the only reason she can will herself to trust evoking it, like a plea that she fights to swallow. ]
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as the hands grab at her own, she tries to shake them away, protests shouted from her lips. she's been held down before against her will, and if there is anything she doesn't take too well, it's the idea of any man trying to maintain her. right now, though, most of the fury is towards being stopped from ripping the thorns away from her body.
she almost shouts again, when the words fill through her mind like a whisper in the back of her head. it stops her in an instant, as if something blows away the cloud in front of her. for a moment, she thinks she hears mordred, the way their souls became bonded through whispered voices in their minds, a sign that they were connected, that they were one and the same. even with his recent betrayal, his memory can still prove enough to calm her.
but it isn't mordred before her, and she lifts her eyes slowly to see the ones before her β and how could she forget those eyes? the man who isn't a man, the beast who isn't a beast. something other, just as she. when the blood around his eyes appears, she does not recoil.
her own eyes are still wet with her own lucid tears, lips bearing a slight quiver only from her own pain sourced from the throbbing of her arms. ]
[ it also isn't spoken out loud, because it is only that he isn't human that he should be able to hear them from her and the only reason she can will herself to trust evoking it, like a plea that she fights to swallow. ]