Wit'cha

1789, Somewhere North of London

Dawn came slowly, the sky lightening by small degrees. From black to blue, to a purple bruise that matched her mood. It wasn’t until the first rays turned the sky to orange that Morgana could make herself move.

She’d spent the night lost, alone in a world of warm memories. She’d given herself this one night, the few short hours spent remembering and reliving her last moments with Aidan. It was all she would have, all she could allow herself to have. From this moment forward she’d have to distance herself, careful to keep their relationship where it should be.

But that time was over, dead with the dawn. Carefully, each movement deliberate, Morgana rose. From the window seat she moved into her dressing room and for the first time recognized the chill in the room. Her body was cold, stiff and sore from sitting the night thru. Morgana welcomed the pain, it was a sign that she was alive and life, she reminded herself, was a gift.

Once inside her dressing room she slipped out of her soiled dress and sponged herself off. It would have been a simple matter to conjure up a warm bath, to soak away the aches and pains and to dress with the help of a few Weaves. But this morning she found comfort in performing the tasks herself.

She worked quietly, her mind focused on each individual task, avoiding thoughts of the day to come. First, she slipped on her undergarments, carefully tying her silk stockings in place. Next, her chemise and corset, using a small thread of air to tighten the lacings. Finally, a dark green gown of velvet with a split skirt settled over a fine silk under-dress of sheer gold. Slippers to match completed the outfit.

As each layer settled around her, Morgana could feel her resolve strengthening. She couldn’t stay depressed for long, it wasn’t in her nature. Besides, the day promised to be a challenging one.

The sound of carriage wheels rolling over gravel reached Morgana as she finished dressing her hair. Even with the help of the elements her long locks were too much for her to handle on her own. Knowing her weaknesses, Morgana simply piled the mass of curls on the top of her head and left them to spill down around her face. The face itself wasn’t a bad one, some would even say beautiful, but it wasn’t going to help her much with what was to come.

Gathering herself, and her courage, Morgana slipped from her rooms and walked quickly down the hall. Not bothering to wait for the announcement, Morgana headed for the front door, giving the doorman a slight nod as he stepped from the shadows to open the door. Gathering her skirts, she trotted down the stairs and stood waiting.

The carriage, a lovely conveyance done in dark wood and black lacquer, rolled to a stop before Morgana, a thin Weave of Air kept the dust from settling on her skirts. Morgana, her belly burning with nerves, tightened her grip on her skirt before realizing what she was doing. Consciously, she let go and smoothed the wrinkles out of the fine material.

John Coachman applied the break, wrapped the reins around the handle and hopped down. With a tip of his hat to Morgana, he opened the carriage door, lowered the steps and held out his hand. There was a brief pause before it was grasped by an amazingly small, white gloved hand.

Morgana smiled and stepped forward. “Annie! It’s so good to see you again.”

“Oh, my dear, you don’t know how happy I am to see you. And not the worse for wear.”

Morgana smiled her thanks to John and took the older woman’s hand. Out of the corner of her eye she saw movement behind the carriage and for the first time spotted the lone rider. It was obvious that he had heard Annie’s words of welcome and Morgana felt the heat rushing to her face. Careful to keep her eyes adverted she peered into the carriage. “Did Rachel come?”

Annie frowned up at her young charge. No matter Morgana’s age she would always be the young one Annie swaddled as a babe. “Of course, we all came, just like you asked.”

Morgana flinched at her old nurse’s words, she hadn’t exactly asked Annie and the others to attend her here, she’d assumed. “Yes, well, where is she?”

“Here I am,” Rachel called as she lowered herself from the carriage.

“Rachel?” Morgana’s eyes went wide at her first glance of her old friend. “What happened?”

Rachel, a small, dark haired pixie, raised one eyes brow and rested her hand on her obviously pregnant belly.

Morgana flushed. “Well…I didn’t mean…it’s obvious that…” Morgana forced herself to stop rambling. A quick look told her that the lone rider still sat atop his mount staring straight ahead. Clearing her throat, Morgana tried again. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were expecting.”

“We weren’t expecting when you left, a lot has happened in a year.” Rachel pointedly looked over her shoulder at the man atop the horse and back to her friend. “Charles sends his love.”

“I’m surprised Charles sent you.” Charles was Rachel’s husband and very protective of his wife.

Rachel rubbed at her back, stiff from the time in the carriage. “He more than anyone knows my place is with you. Besides, he’ll come when the babe does.”

Morgana could see that her friend and nurse maid were both tired. “Come inside, I’ve had room made ready for all of you.” For the first time she addressed the rider directly, “You can stable your mount, there’s fair for you to break your fast and I’m sure you’d like to clean up after your journey.”

Without a word, the rider dismounted and followed as John Coachman led the team of four towards the stables. “Give him time.”

Morgana turned at the sound of her voice and found Annie watching her closely. “He’s angry.”

Annie snorted, “Of course he is, and you knew he would be.”

“Yes, but there was nothing to be done about it,” Morgana felt the need to defend herself as she led Annie up the stairs, Rachel was already inside.

“Do you regret your decision?” Annie asked.

Morgana frowned as she considered. “I regret that such a decision had to be made.”

Annie nodded her understanding and followed Morgana into the house. Inside, a Mountain trained servant bowed deep at the waist before turning to escort them to their rooms. Morgana sighed at the simple pleasure of a well trained servant, one well aware of the nature of the people he served. It was the first sign of things to come, of the changes wrought by the change in her relationship with Aidan.

Annie and Rachel were both quickly settled, Rachel down for a nap and Annie with her knitting. While Morgana felt relief at their arrival there was still one guest yet to see to.

Back in her room, Morgana rang the bell-pull. Within minutes a maid arrived and received her message along with a fine Spun thread of Spirit. Carefully arranging her skirts, Morgana sat down to wait. She didn’t have to wait long.

Morgana jumped slightly as the door to her sitting room burst open and slammed against the wall. Absently, she thought about having the wall padded before permanent damage could be done.

“How

dare

you?!”

Morgana raised a delicate eyebrow in question but didn’t rise from her seat.

“After what you did you would use a Compulsion spell on me?” He was angry, the need to see her just starting to fade as his eyes fell on her seated form. For the barest of moments he stood inside the door, drinking in the site of her. Despite his most reverend wish, he knew that the Compulsion spell wasn’t the only cause of his desire.

“How dare I?” Morgana spoke as if confused. Folding her hands in her lap, she asked, “It wasn’t a Compulsion spell but only a slight thread of Spirit sent to ensure your arrival. How was I supposed to know if you would come.”

Jaux sneered, allowing his anger to override his passion, feeding it so as to protect himself. “You summoned, we came.”

Morgana allowed her eyes to narrow at the anger and resentment she heard in his voice. “You forget yourself, you serve at my pleasure.” They were cruel words, and not entirely true.

There was a long, tense moment of silence before Jaux bowed, offering her a formal leg, sarcasm evident in every line of his lean body. He was a handsome man of thirty with long dark hair tied back in a leather thong. His body, warrior wrought and iron hard, was wide through the shoulders, thick through the chest and muscular through the arms. His waist was narrow and his legs long. Such was his body, a body that was as much weapon as it was man. “My apologies, milady. I should thank you for conjuring us up to that charming little inn, the rats were of the finest quality, better then the customers. And the carriage and mount were most comfortable.”

Morgana’s fear and apprehension at seeing Jaux again turned into a slow, smoldering anger. She’d known when sending her summons that to ask her Guard to arrive in secret, appearing in a unknown forest behind a forgotten inn instead of coming directly to the manor, was an insult. But not all of Aidan’s servants had been replaced with servants from the Mountain and she couldn’t risk the sudden appearance of a warrior. At the same time, she shouldn’t have to explain herself, especially not to Jaux. He knew her better than that, better then anyone, and should know that only necessity would force her to treat him so.

“Well,” Morgana finally stood and, shaking out her skirts, strolled to the widow. With her back to the room, she said, “I hope your current accommodations are more to your liking. If not, I can have another room prepared and your things moved.”

Jaux watched the angry lines of her back and stepped further into the room, kicking the door closed behind him. He wanted to tell her it didn’t matter, to hold her and know for himself that she was as well as she appeared. But he didn’t, he couldn’t. There was still too much hurt and anger for him to allow himself the luxury. “The accommodations are excellent, it would seem you’ve done well for yourself.”

Morgana whirled around. “What’s that suppose to mean?”

Jaux shrugged, “It would seem you were right to leave us behind, it’s obvious you used the time alone with your warlock to position yourself well. From the look of things you have a free hand with the house. Nothing like being the lady of the manor, is there?”

Morgana stumbled back from his words as if sustaining a physical blow. “Is that what you think?”

“I think you knew exactly what you were doing when you left and made sure we couldn’t follow.”

“Get out! Get out before I send you back to that god forsaken mountain and leave you there to rot!” Morgana took a threatening step forward, her powers more than a match for Jaux’s physical strength.

Jaux chuckled without humor. “I don’t think so, I serve at your pleasure, remember?” Moving so quick as to be almost blind to the eye, Jaux flew across the room and seized Morgana by her upper arms. Without breaking stride he pushed her back against the wall, his mouth crashing down upon her. Instantly her taste flooded his senses, the warmth of her mouth inviting him to delve deeper. Hungrily, he saturated himself, his tongue sliding between her lips.

Morgana caught her breath as heat and desire broke against her in waves. This was Jaux, but unlike anything she’d ever known before. Where once he’d been a soft and gentle lover now stood a demanding man, one which ravished her mouth and body with the barest touch. He claimed her, branded and marked her with his touch.

Before she knew it, before she could think straight, Morgana found herself devoid of all clothing, her back still pressed firmly against the wall as Jaux pulled her thighs wide and wrapped them around his hips. With one quick thrust he impaled her on his shaft, a low moan of pleasure escaping from between his clenched lips.

Dazed, Morgana wrapped her arms around his neck and held on tight. It was all she could do to hold her own on this ride. He was ruthless, relentless in his pursuit of pleasure, both his and her’s. Again and again, he drove himself between her legs, thrusting himself deep into her body. His hands, no longer needed to hold her legs, slid up to cup her buttocks where they clenched spasmodically at her tender flesh.

Shifting slightly, Jaux lowered his head and took one exposed nipple into his mouth. Suckling hard, he nipped and pulled on the tender flesh until Morgana cried out, her body clamping down around him before exploding in a shower of warmth, wetness and relief.

Still he rode her, his body bruising her, punishing for leaving, for making him want her despite the pain and anger. Morgana, spent and boneless, surrendered, offering herself up to his anger. It was only then, when he felt her soften beneath him, that Jaux found his own release. With his head thrown back, Jaux let go with a cry of pleasure and pain, anger and joy, and love and hate.

****

Morgana was slow to come back to herself. Never before had there been such raw passion between Jaux and herself. Always before it had been tender, different from what she could expect from her warlock. But this, this was something new, something to be considered during a private moment alone. But for now there were practical matters to attend to.

Jaux had already withdrawn himself from her body and lowered them both to the floor. Morgana, for perhaps the first time truly satisfied, turned her head and found him watching her. Without a word he unfolded his body and rose gracefully to gathered his clothes. Turning, he strolled from the room, stopping only when his hand was on the door. “If you

ever

leave like that again I will break the blood bond that binds us.”

Morgana sat staring, her mouth open in surprise, as Jaux left, closing the door behind him. Her mind rebelled. A

donia

was bound to her Guard through the shedding of blood, only when they’d both bled for the other was their binding at its strongest. To break that bond meant the death of one of them.

Jaux had bled for her during their first battle together. She’d been young, inexperience but eager, fighting along side her Guard when he took a dagger in the back. It was a freak accident, the would-be assassin should never have been able to get that close. Morgana, suddenly afraid, had stood over Jaux protecting him as she fought. It was afterwards, after she’d healed his wounds with Earth and Spirit, that he’d taken her virginity, sealing their bond with her blood.

Unlike her link to Aidan, Morgana couldn’t sense what went on with Jaux. She had to rely on her human instincts to help guide her in her relationship with her Guard. Jaux, as she’d been warned early on, was not an easy man to deal with. He continually tested her, pushed her and forced her to use her mind and not just her magic. It was his responsibility as her Guard and just one of the many reasons she loved him.

It was a complicated life she led, made more so with the coming meeting of

Wit’cha

. There was Aidan to contend with, and the web that was and would be their relationship. It was a relationship that would evolve and change over time. At the same time, Morgana had responsibilities to herself, to the Mountain and to

Wit’cha

. Finally, there was Jaux. While she was glad to have him here, to once again know that she could call him to her side, she couldn’t help but wonder what would happen when the two men in her life met for the first time.

“Annie!” It was ridiculous to want her nursemaid, but there it was.

“Oh dear, I see you and Jaux ran into each other.” Annie’s sudden appearance in the sitting room wasn’t unexpected. The old woman had powers of her own, not enough to join the ranks of

donia

or make a match as a witch but enough to deal with a small babe with the promise to be the most powerful

donia

and see her into womanhood. Such had been Annie’s role, one she still took seriously despite Morgana having passed childhood some time ago.

Morgana stood and with a wave of her hand was fully dressed once more. “I need your help.”

“It would seem you’ve done alright for yourself.”

Morgana’s eyes narrowed. “That’s the second time someone said that to me.”

Annie didn’t miss the ice in her young charge’s voice. Nodding, she said, “Yes, I suppose he would see it that way. Not being tied to you the way us others are he can’t know the pain you’ve suffered this past year.”

“Nor will he. I want Jaux and Aidan to meet, and yes, measure each other up. If Jaux hears how Aidan has behaved this past year he’s more likely to strike first, with his sword, and not bother with the questions.”

Annie moved around the room, picking up discarded clothes. “I suspect you’re right about that. The two of them will strut around each other, measure their manhood and decide which one of them is the dominant male.”

“Annie!” Morgana wasn’t shocked or surprised by her nursemaid’s blunt words. They were all true, but the old woman didn’t have to take such pleasure in knowing, and saying, it. With a small sigh of frustration Morgana vanished the soiled clothes. “Will you sit down?! I can clean up after myself, and what I don’t do the maid will take care of.”

Annie stopped where she stood and glared. “Don’t you dare leave your personal things behind! Especially anything touched with your…essence, it could be used…”

“I know.” Morgana said, “You don’t have to worry about it. Aidan’s servants wouldn’t know what to do with it and those trained at the Mountain are loyal, to me if not to Aidan.”

“Servants could be bought and those uneducated men and women wouldn’t care why someone wanted your under-things.”

Morgana tilted her head slightly and watched as Annie settled herself down on the couch before the fire.

Annie caught Morgana watching her. “What?”

Morgana shook her head, soft curls floating around her face. “Nothing, it’s just…this is why I called you. I mean, once Aidan accepted me,” Morgana waived that topic aside and went on, “but more than anything I need your counsel.”

“Oh,

phewe

, I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know.”

Morgana moved around the room and knelt at Annie’s feet. “No, you’re not, but it won’t always be that way. I need you, and Rachel, for what is to come.”

“

Wit’cha?

”

“Yes, and the next

Man’urn

,” Morgana said.

Annie considered the young woman sitting next to her through narrowed eyes. “You already know who it is going to be.” It wasn’t a question but a statement, one Annie already knew to be true.

Morgana looked away from that penetrating gaze. “I have some ideas, nothing I’ve been able to confirm.”

Annie nodded and was suddenly knitting. “Well then, we should get ready. When do we go?”

****

Jaux stalked down the hall leading away from Morgana’s suite of rooms. While he’d meant it at the time, she had done well, he knew that Morgana had nothing more than she deserved. She was one of the strongest

donia

ever to train at the Mountain, perhaps in history and a intelligent woman in her own right. The fact that this warlock had set her up in his home was only right. As for the man, Jaux would just have to see for himself what manner of man Aidan was.

And it looks like he was about to get the chance.

Aidan turned the corner and glared. Coming towards him was a strange man, unusually large and if Aidan wasn’t mistaken, wearing a sword on his back. As he drew closer, Aidan recognized Jaux, Morgana’s guard, from her description. He wasn’t happy having

Wit’cha

trained servants in his home and the sudden appearance of this…warrior…only bolstered his bias.

What did Morgana need with this man?

As the two men approached each other they slowed until they stood no more than a sword’s length apart. Jaux, recognizing he was in the other man’s home and thus at a disadvantage, spoke first. “You’re Morgana’s warlock.”

Aidan raised an eyebrow at such a crude introduction. “I am. Am I to presume you’re her servant, summoned from the Mountain?”