Who: morgana pendragon + you.
What: random meetings with a mostly defused priestess
When: mostly this week
Where: new camelot + thor district
Rating: mostly pg! will change if there's a need.



[ if there was an odd peace that came with returning to the house, morgana dared not admit it. the truth was, it was no longer home even with her in it; not with matters still tense among the ones who once used to inhibit it peacefully.

but there was peace; it was just there beneath her veins, her blood not boiling as easily, a great darkness held at bay by a single thread of something. it wasn't hope, it wasn't love, it wasn't a shred of the lady morgana that take its place in the body that also hosted the queen and the priestess, a clarity among her memories.

but it was. it was exactly that.

still, she does not admit it. it shows in the way she carries herself, in the purple of her silks and the bit of tension that has left her brows and her hands that are loose and not drawn into fists.

not quite the graceful and flirty lady morgana and not the queen, a mix of the two, something more concrete and less angry but proud all the same.

she spends her days reading at the house, books of politics and poems and wars and great loves and great losses. she reads like a woman starved, she reads and hopes for answers.

when she isn't doing that, she walks, discovers the streets of thor again, sits on a bench and reminds herself what it feels like to breathe freely.

these are precious moments, she has so few of those.

she makes good use of them. ]