Post by Mab Rox on Jul 5, 2007 6:20:39 GMT 9.5
OK, to make a long story short, IT'S FINALLY DONE!
Thanks to Tosca, Himiko and Joel for giving ideas/correcting, to Crysta for giving me the title, and for reading and correcting, and to...everyone who I ever agonized about this with! ;D
I don't know really wat to rate it...PG13 to M...maybe...
By the time she got back to her own kingdom, Queen Mab of Faye was ready to completely annihilate the entire human race. When had the general populace of Britain had the time to become so stupid? How could they not see that the God that they were turning their belief to was simply an empty, hollow promise that was made to be broken? How could they not see all of the sweat and blood that she had put into their existence?
The rage boiling inside Mab was the most intense she could ever remember feeling. She closed her eyes, and felt the power of it grow within her. It sprang into a solid form—a fireball. She turned, and tossed it into the wall of her palace with amazing force. It rocked the foundations of the building, and Mab screamed. With all of the force of the anger that was within her, she screamed.
She stormed into the still-shuddering palace with a great air of purpose about her.
“Frik!” she snapped.
The gnome ran into the room. “Yes, You Majesty?”
“Leave the palace,” she hissed, glaring at him. “I need time to think, uninterrupted by your blunderings.”
“Yes, Madame,” whispered Frik, fighting the urge to back away slowly. “Would…you like Master Merlin gone as well?”
Mab paused for a moment, thinking. Then a predatory gleam appeared in her eyes. “No. Leave Merlin.”
“As you wish,” said Frik, with a slight bow, disappearing.
Merlin wandered out of his room, yawning. He could have sworn he had felt the palace vibrate, but he had been so sound asleep that he wasn’t sure. He rubbed his eyes, and went off in search of Frik, to ask the gnome just what had woken him.
“Frik?” the young magician called, walking through the halls, growing increasingly worried as he didn’t find his mentor.
After wandering the palace for several minutes, he hesitantly moved towards Queen Mab’s quarters.
Through an open door, he could see her, clad in her sheer purple nightgown, her black hair shimmering in the violet candlelight. She was leaning over a piece of parchment on a table, seemingly studying it with great intensity.
“Mab?” he asked softly.
“Merlin. Come in.”
Merlin stepped into the room, unsure of what he should do. Mab’s cleavage was on rather prominent display—the most of a woman’s breast he had ever seen—and her smooth, strong legs were shown off as well. Merlin frowned, wondering what she could be doing in such scant attire.
Mab judged Merlin with her wolf’s gaze for a moment before turning her back and striding back over to the table, this time sitting down upon it, crossing her legs. Her intentions would have been perfectly clear to almost anyone. Unfortunately, Merlin had never been in the position to learn the sexual side of Mab, so he had no idea that he was being handed an open invitation. One that would probably never come again—the last time the Queen of Faye had been this stressed, Lord Idath hadn’t been able to walk for a week.
“Where is Frik?” the rather ignorant boy questioned, looking around.
“He has…vacated the premises,” Mab replied, her voice a bit deeper and huskier than normal.
“Oh,” said Merlin, looking back at Mab.
She caught the slight burnings of desire in his gaze. Good. At this point in time, she needed the relief.
“So…what are you doing?” asked Merlin walking over to look over Mab, in order to see the paper.
Mab took the opportunity to hone his silent longing for her body, and she pressed up against him, under the pretence of looking over her shoulder.
“I’m reading an ancient text,” she said, noting the way his whole body suddenly stiffened, and she knew he was wondering whether or not he should pull away.
“That sounds…interesting,” Merlin forced out in a rather strangled voice, trying not to squeak.
“And indeed it is,” replied Mab, rolling her hips just the slightest bit.
“…ah…I’d…imagine so.”
“Why are you here, Merlin?” asked Mab, tossing her head to one side, her black hair falling over her shoulder.
Merlin was suddenly caught up in a fantasy of what that glorious hair would feel like twined around his fingers.
“Merlin?” asked Mab, noticing his mental lapse. She stood, and walked around him, pressing her body up against his from behind.
“Uhm, yes?” His voice was quite higher than normal.
“Are you all right?” she murmured into his ear, her breath tickling his cheek.
“Yes…I’m…perfectly fine…”
His hands caught up in that hair, his mouth marking her shoulder, his bare chest pressed against hers, his hips pressed flush against hers…
Merlin had never felt such pure lust before in his life.
Mab, of course, had. Many times. This wound not be the last.
Merlin licked his lips.
Mab sighed. This was taking rather too long.
The boy whimpered softly as she breezily moved around to face him, her face mere inches from his.
Her lips…all over him…
With a sudden, crashing force, Mab brought her mouth down upon Merlin’s.
Merlin was not prepared for everything that lay within her kiss. Her mouth tasted like some exotic herb, and her lips were softer than he could have imagined. He ran his tongue along hers, feeling with surprise the savagery that she put forth in something that to most others would have been tender. He moaned into her mouth, forgetting anything but carnal desire.
If Mab’s mouth had been free, she would have smirked in satisfaction. She was still angry at mankind. She wouldn’t stop being angry for quite sometime. But she could enjoy this while it lasted. Such superficial pleasure always straightened out her thinking for a while.
Merlin pulled away. After all, he was mortal—he needed to breathe.
Mab raised a perfect eyebrow, and turned back to her ancient text while Merlin caught his breath.
A moment of silence passed. And another.
Mab looked up from her book. “Have you recovered as of yet?” she asked contemptuously.
Something stirred within him—courage built and strengthened by his Aunt Ambrosia.
“How can you be so calm about this?” he demanded.
Mab just shook her head.
“Doesn’t it mean anything to you?”
“No,” replied Mab. “And don’t even pretend that it means a thing to you.”
“I…” started Merlin.
Mab snorted. “Just pretend that I’m your beloved Nimue,” she said, and moved to kiss him again.
“What? How did you”—he was cut off as their lips met, parted, and he gave into her.
“I know everything, Merlin,” said Mab, as she pulled him over to the bed.
Merlin let out a half-terrified squeal as she threw him down.
Mab leaned over him, kissing him, ripping his shirt.
She chuckled huskily against his mouth, pushing his shoulders harshly against the purple bedcovering.
He went more willingly than she expected, kissing her back almost shyly.
There was, however, nothing shy about the way that Mab yanked the remains of Merlin’s destroyed shirt away from the waistband of his pants. Or about the swift motion with which she took his hand and pressed it to her breast. Merlin gasped, but instead of pulling away, he leaned up, trying to gain a position with more leverage.
Mab was having none of it, though, as she whipped off his pants and mounted him.
Come morning, Merlin ran as fast as his legs would carry him away from Queen Mab and her siren’s smile, her goddess’s laugh, and her devil’s gaze. Away from the multiple sins that she had somehow goaded him into committing. Away from the guilt that was eating him up from the inside out.
Away…away…away…
He came to a stop in a cavern—one he knew Mab didn’t frequent—and he collapsed there, curling into a sitting position. As his memory involuntarily played over the events of the past night, he wondered how he could ever have done such a thing…
“Merlin…” came the ghostly whisper, and he looked up to see his salvation in the Lady of that Lake.
Thanks to Tosca, Himiko and Joel for giving ideas/correcting, to Crysta for giving me the title, and for reading and correcting, and to...everyone who I ever agonized about this with! ;D
I don't know really wat to rate it...PG13 to M...maybe...
***
By the time she got back to her own kingdom, Queen Mab of Faye was ready to completely annihilate the entire human race. When had the general populace of Britain had the time to become so stupid? How could they not see that the God that they were turning their belief to was simply an empty, hollow promise that was made to be broken? How could they not see all of the sweat and blood that she had put into their existence?
The rage boiling inside Mab was the most intense she could ever remember feeling. She closed her eyes, and felt the power of it grow within her. It sprang into a solid form—a fireball. She turned, and tossed it into the wall of her palace with amazing force. It rocked the foundations of the building, and Mab screamed. With all of the force of the anger that was within her, she screamed.
She stormed into the still-shuddering palace with a great air of purpose about her.
“Frik!” she snapped.
The gnome ran into the room. “Yes, You Majesty?”
“Leave the palace,” she hissed, glaring at him. “I need time to think, uninterrupted by your blunderings.”
“Yes, Madame,” whispered Frik, fighting the urge to back away slowly. “Would…you like Master Merlin gone as well?”
Mab paused for a moment, thinking. Then a predatory gleam appeared in her eyes. “No. Leave Merlin.”
“As you wish,” said Frik, with a slight bow, disappearing.
* * *
Merlin wandered out of his room, yawning. He could have sworn he had felt the palace vibrate, but he had been so sound asleep that he wasn’t sure. He rubbed his eyes, and went off in search of Frik, to ask the gnome just what had woken him.
“Frik?” the young magician called, walking through the halls, growing increasingly worried as he didn’t find his mentor.
After wandering the palace for several minutes, he hesitantly moved towards Queen Mab’s quarters.
Through an open door, he could see her, clad in her sheer purple nightgown, her black hair shimmering in the violet candlelight. She was leaning over a piece of parchment on a table, seemingly studying it with great intensity.
“Mab?” he asked softly.
“Merlin. Come in.”
Merlin stepped into the room, unsure of what he should do. Mab’s cleavage was on rather prominent display—the most of a woman’s breast he had ever seen—and her smooth, strong legs were shown off as well. Merlin frowned, wondering what she could be doing in such scant attire.
* * *
Mab judged Merlin with her wolf’s gaze for a moment before turning her back and striding back over to the table, this time sitting down upon it, crossing her legs. Her intentions would have been perfectly clear to almost anyone. Unfortunately, Merlin had never been in the position to learn the sexual side of Mab, so he had no idea that he was being handed an open invitation. One that would probably never come again—the last time the Queen of Faye had been this stressed, Lord Idath hadn’t been able to walk for a week.
“Where is Frik?” the rather ignorant boy questioned, looking around.
“He has…vacated the premises,” Mab replied, her voice a bit deeper and huskier than normal.
“Oh,” said Merlin, looking back at Mab.
She caught the slight burnings of desire in his gaze. Good. At this point in time, she needed the relief.
“So…what are you doing?” asked Merlin walking over to look over Mab, in order to see the paper.
Mab took the opportunity to hone his silent longing for her body, and she pressed up against him, under the pretence of looking over her shoulder.
“I’m reading an ancient text,” she said, noting the way his whole body suddenly stiffened, and she knew he was wondering whether or not he should pull away.
“That sounds…interesting,” Merlin forced out in a rather strangled voice, trying not to squeak.
“And indeed it is,” replied Mab, rolling her hips just the slightest bit.
“…ah…I’d…imagine so.”
“Why are you here, Merlin?” asked Mab, tossing her head to one side, her black hair falling over her shoulder.
Merlin was suddenly caught up in a fantasy of what that glorious hair would feel like twined around his fingers.
“Merlin?” asked Mab, noticing his mental lapse. She stood, and walked around him, pressing her body up against his from behind.
“Uhm, yes?” His voice was quite higher than normal.
“Are you all right?” she murmured into his ear, her breath tickling his cheek.
“Yes…I’m…perfectly fine…”
His hands caught up in that hair, his mouth marking her shoulder, his bare chest pressed against hers, his hips pressed flush against hers…
Merlin had never felt such pure lust before in his life.
Mab, of course, had. Many times. This wound not be the last.
Merlin licked his lips.
Mab sighed. This was taking rather too long.
The boy whimpered softly as she breezily moved around to face him, her face mere inches from his.
Her lips…all over him…
With a sudden, crashing force, Mab brought her mouth down upon Merlin’s.
* * *
Merlin was not prepared for everything that lay within her kiss. Her mouth tasted like some exotic herb, and her lips were softer than he could have imagined. He ran his tongue along hers, feeling with surprise the savagery that she put forth in something that to most others would have been tender. He moaned into her mouth, forgetting anything but carnal desire.
If Mab’s mouth had been free, she would have smirked in satisfaction. She was still angry at mankind. She wouldn’t stop being angry for quite sometime. But she could enjoy this while it lasted. Such superficial pleasure always straightened out her thinking for a while.
Merlin pulled away. After all, he was mortal—he needed to breathe.
Mab raised a perfect eyebrow, and turned back to her ancient text while Merlin caught his breath.
A moment of silence passed. And another.
Mab looked up from her book. “Have you recovered as of yet?” she asked contemptuously.
Something stirred within him—courage built and strengthened by his Aunt Ambrosia.
“How can you be so calm about this?” he demanded.
Mab just shook her head.
“Doesn’t it mean anything to you?”
“No,” replied Mab. “And don’t even pretend that it means a thing to you.”
“I…” started Merlin.
Mab snorted. “Just pretend that I’m your beloved Nimue,” she said, and moved to kiss him again.
“What? How did you”—he was cut off as their lips met, parted, and he gave into her.
“I know everything, Merlin,” said Mab, as she pulled him over to the bed.
Merlin let out a half-terrified squeal as she threw him down.
Mab leaned over him, kissing him, ripping his shirt.
She chuckled huskily against his mouth, pushing his shoulders harshly against the purple bedcovering.
He went more willingly than she expected, kissing her back almost shyly.
There was, however, nothing shy about the way that Mab yanked the remains of Merlin’s destroyed shirt away from the waistband of his pants. Or about the swift motion with which she took his hand and pressed it to her breast. Merlin gasped, but instead of pulling away, he leaned up, trying to gain a position with more leverage.
Mab was having none of it, though, as she whipped off his pants and mounted him.
* * *
Come morning, Merlin ran as fast as his legs would carry him away from Queen Mab and her siren’s smile, her goddess’s laugh, and her devil’s gaze. Away from the multiple sins that she had somehow goaded him into committing. Away from the guilt that was eating him up from the inside out.
Away…away…away…
He came to a stop in a cavern—one he knew Mab didn’t frequent—and he collapsed there, curling into a sitting position. As his memory involuntarily played over the events of the past night, he wondered how he could ever have done such a thing…
“Merlin…” came the ghostly whisper, and he looked up to see his salvation in the Lady of that Lake.