Authors Notes: OH HAI. So, this is 'Evil, Shady Dealings', which is set during Season 3 and revolves mainly around Morgana and Morgause, because I feel there is a distinct lack of fanfiction involving the two of them. It puts a (hopefully) humorous spin on things and I dare say you might enjoy it if you give it a chance.

Disclaimer: I obviously do not own Merlin or any of the characters etc. Otherwise I would currently be crying with sheer happiness. As it is, I am writing fanfiction.

Evil, Shady Dealings

1.

Questions, Questions, So Many Questions

"Sister!"

Morgause rushed forwards, moving to clasp her hands tightly over her younger sisters', her face breaking into a rare smile. "I was beginning to think you would not come."

The raven haired woman returned the smile, though Morgause noted it looked a little forced. "I had a little trouble getting past some of the guards, that is all." She reassured the older woman, before breaking away from her touch to walk further into the cave, slowly bringing down the hood of her red cloak as she did so.

Something was bothering Morgana, that much was evident. But what in the Old Religion's name could it be? Morgause furrowed her brows, concerned that her worst fears had come true. "Has somebody found out you have magic?" She questioned, her tone calm even though she felt anything but.

"No. It is something far worse."

"Worse?" Morgause spluttered, unable to fathom what could possibly be worse in a kingdom where magic was banned. "Sister, I can assure you that there is no greater threat to you than-"

"I am wearing red."Morgana interrupted, sounding thoroughly disgruntled.

A vast silence stretched out before them.

The older woman stared blankly at the back of her sister, taking in the beautiful cloak that gently brushed the ground, making a mental note that yes, it was decidedly red rather than any other colour. Yet, Morgause still failed to see how this was worse than being burnt at the stake for possessing magical abilities.

"...that would appear to be the case." The witch ventured finally, hoping her sister was well in the head.

"Not just that, I am wearing high heels."

"Evidently."

"I feel as though you are failing to see the problem here, Morgause." The younger sibling huffed moodily, turning to face the other, her cloak swishing dramatically across the cave floor as she did so. "Look at it!"

"But-"

"Look at it!"

Morgause's dark eyes resignedly followed the cloak as Morgana began to sway from side to side. The material billowed about most magnificently. "...I can assure you I am, I merely do not understand what point it is you are trying to ma-"

"It is flapping about in every direction and it is red!"

"Yes."

Morgana ceased swaying and let out a groan of annoyance. Sometimes her sister could be stupendously unintelligent for one who was supposed to be such a powerful and feared witch. She decided to try things from a different angle. "Sister, do you know why it is I had such trouble getting past the guards on my way here to meet you?"

"I assumed that there were more patrols than usu-"

"It was because I was wearing a red cloak and high heels!"

Morgana was met with silence and a faintly concerned look on her sister's face which gave the distinct impression that Morgause thought her mad.

"Are you purposely attempting not to understand the crisis I was faced with?" Morgana questioned irritably, finding that her patience was starting to wear thin. "I was trying to steal out of castle inconspicuously, wearing a bright red cloak." She paused, hoping that her sister would now be able to see the enormity of the problem, but was yet again faced with silence and a worried expression.

"Bright. Red. Cloak." The raven haired witch reiterated, beginning to sway again so that the cloak swished around her. "I was lit up much akin to a Christmas tree! The guards would have been able to see me from a league away! And that was only half of the problem, sister, only half of the problem!"

Morgause gave a slow nod, wondering if perhaps her sister had hit her head on a low branch on the way to the cave.

"I was also wearing footwear with heels. High heels." Morgana continued, the tone of her voice rising with every word "Every step I took echoed out loudly down the corridors. I declare I may as well have attached a banshee to myself, for all the noise I was making!"

The younger witch was looking thoroughly angered by this point and stopped her swaying to fix her sibling with a fiery glare. "Have I made my point crystal clear, Morgause? Because I do not see how I can continue to tiptoe about Camelot unseen when I am wearing such ridiculous apparel!"

There was a small silence, in which Morgana was trying her best not to actually snarl and Morgause stood with her arms folded across her chest, looking every inch the calm and collected older sister. "Well, you cannot possibly wear any other colour." She replied simply.

Morgana stared at Morgause.

Morgause stared at Morgana.

"Have you lost your mind?" The younger of the two asked incredulously, feeling as though she might as well slam her head against the cave walls for all the good this talking was doing.

"I am in perfect health, I assure you." Morgause answered coolly "You simply seem to have forgotten the first rule of malevolence."

"Really? And what, pray, is that?"

"One must always wear red when engaging in vindictive or merely rebellious activities."

Morgana, apparently, was speechless, unable to comprehend the seriousness with which her sister was speaking about these matters.

Morgause took this rare opportunity of silence on her sister's part to continue "As for your footwear, high heels gives one a few added inches of height which allows for condescending looks down upon others who are less fortunate than you are in either appearance, status or both."

Morgana merely blinked, her mouth slightly agape in sheer disbelief at the other woman. This didn't even...she was completely failing to see that wearing such clothing could end in capture and demise...what was she even...she couldn't even...

However, Morgause was apparently unfazed and was already heading to take a seat at the battered, wooden table at one side of the cave. "Oh and sister, do close your mouth. It is most unbecoming of a future Queen to gawp like that."

Authors Notes: So, uhhhh, review, ok? Ok. It will make me almost impossibly happy. I might even sing or dance. But more likely I'll just melt into a pile of joyous mush. Cool cool.