Summary: It seems Gwaine proves to be of better use than entertainment for Morgana. A one-shot set between 4x12 and 4x13 "The Sword in the Stone". Rated M for slightly smutty sexy-times and one use of language.

I believe this should have happened, or if it did, they should reveal such in season 5. I think Morgana is the sort to want this and Gwaine is definitely the sort to go along with it, regardless of her evil-ways. Please read, review and enjoy.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my oversexed imagination.

Power of Life

Upon the throne, Morgana watched on, almost slouching as she tapped her nails against the wood of its arm. She leered at Gwaine as he finished off another two of Helios' men, pleasing her once more. She realised, however entertaining it may have seemed at first, the show couldn't quell the ache within her, which grew as Gwaine tore the remaining fragments of his tunic off his sodden body. He ran a hand through his equally-drenched and chaotic hair and caught a glimpse of Morgana's contented grin, staring at his body from across the council chambers.

Eventually, after a not-so-momentary gaze at one another, Morgana stood and approached Gwaine slowly while Helios' men automatically retreated. "All this fighting has become rather dull." she announced, her voice soft but loud enough for all to hear.

"I couldn't agree more." Gwaine grinned, wincing slightly, the cut on his face had begun to sting. Morgana noticed and brought her hand up to his chest, only to begin mumbling words of a language he did not recognize. Suddenly, her eyes glowed golden as she stared at her hand and a swift rush of strength coursed through Gwaine's body. All slits in his skin began to close over; bruises that had already formed were fading quickly and every bone that ached, felt anew. All men, including Gwaine himself observed in wonder, whereas Morgana's eyes had found her champion's, never faltering in her pride of that moment. Her hand hadn't moved either, only began roaming his torso; appreciating all that which was on display.

Gwaine stared down at her and thought he had never seen a woman more beautiful. Torment suited her but he couldn't help but imagine how she had been in her brighter days. Days before she fell into darkness and betrayal. He wishes more than anything that he could have known her back then, before it all went wrong.

Their closeness had bestowed him with pleasant odour. How could something so evil, smell so sweet? He mused as he attempted to keep-face in front of her, reluctant to give her the satisfaction or advantage of his lust for her.

Helios glared bitterly from behind the throne, clearly agitated by Morgana and Gwaine's interaction.

"Morgana." he called, entreating her attention from the younger man. She neither gave it nor did she acknowledge his pathetic plea for it and instead began circling Gwaine. He felt her dress move against his legs, his body now fully aware of their proximity to each other. She stopped behind him, amused by something she found back there. Gwaine watched when Helios finally approached them, a furious expression pressed across his normally sardonic countenance.

"Ahem!" He grunted, demanding Morgana's attention. She peered over Gwaine's shoulder at the dark-skinned man, only to roll her eyes and force them golden once more, causing Helios to clutch at his throat, struggling to breathe. "I am your Queen." she told him simply, "And you'd do best to remember it." glaring at him, she hissed and let her spell fade, leaving him, shocked and breathless on the floor.

She turned back to Gwaine and commanded, with an alluring tone in her voice, "Come with me." before leaving the council chambers. And Gwaine did just that, following her right to the nearest bedchambers, helpless to her command.

Morgana revelled in how willing Gwaine was to participate in her activities, which she made an effort to proclaim couldn't occur if he hadn't given consent. Of course, he done no such thing but amidst the tumbling of limbs and other extremities, he subconsciously submitted to her will. What this will was, he hadn't the slightest idea: she was a woman of many mysteries, too many he might've complained, even if those mysteries were what built the back-bone of his attraction for this wicked-witch.

Gwaine had always yearned for things that were no good for him.

Then there was Morgana, who was so utterly… bad, she was perfect for him.

Suddenly, with one sharp movement of his leg, Gwaine had Morgana on her back on the large four-poster bed. Now, hovering above her, he looked down again, forcing her to feel any ounce of vulnerability beneath his towering form. She huffed in annoyance but made no attempt to push him from her and onto his back once more, to regain the upper-hand.

She lay glaring up at him as he marvelled at how stunning she was, with her dark curls billowed around her pale face. Her normally deadly glower had not fazed him. Instead he grinned rebelliously, fuelling her rage further - causing that, now familiar golden tint to swallow the green of her eyes again.

Instead of flying backwards, Gwaine felt a hand grasp a fistful of hair at the back of his head. The hand was neither of hers, for he had pinned them both at either side of her head on the pillow.

Morgana then managed to push herself upwards, her chest pressed into his own and with the help of the invisible hand, their lips met. Gwaine knew there was no use in fighting the magic that held him at ease, and he thought, perhaps regretfully, that he didn't want to fight her anymore. So he relaxed the grip on her wrists and entwined each of his fingers with hers. As he did so, he felt the invisible hand on his head disappear, leaving only the force of human nature to take over.

Moments later, they were caught up in plundering each other's mouths with their own that Morgana forgot the purpose of this activity. "Why did you heal me?" Gwaine asked breathlessly as he reluctantly pulled away from her lips.

Affronted by his insolence, she abruptly pushes him onto his back and lifted her skirts to sit astride his waist. "I needed you to be at your best." apparently his question had reminded her of that purpose.

His eyebrows furrowed in question, why?

"There is no power such as the power of life, Gwaine." she answered, voice melodic to his ears. He wanted to hate her. He never wanted to… love a woman he couldn't understand.

He shook the thought of such feelings out of his mind and queried her, "What about Helios?"

Gwaine noticed the brief expression of revulsion on her face before she answered, "He has his uses but the other half of my child is not one of them."

"So you chose me, of all the men you could have, to be that half?" he seemed genuinely curious to know of her pursuit now, Morgana noted.

She shrugged mindlessly, "Why not? You have proved yourself to be a man of great character, strength and... more. All admirable traits you should be delighted to pass onto my heir."

"Am I not too bold for you?" he inclined an eyebrow.

Morgana shook her head softly, fingering the pendant and ring he wore around his neck night and day, "On the contrary, your boldness is what attracts me to you most. If you submitted to my every whim and desire, I'd be stuck in a horrible humdrum unfitting for a Queen. Your deviant ways are entirely tempting on their own, Sir Knight."

What a compliment, Gwaine thought as he lay there, now beaming up at her, incredibly pleased with her rarely-given praises. Nothing is said in the next few moments that pass so instead, he licks his lips and puts said boldness to the test. Sure, she was evil, but what had he to lose if he satisfied her? A rhetorical question he would answer anyway with his actions to follow.

He reaches up and places his hand on the side of her face, caressing the smooth skin there, before he moves his fingers to her throat, feeling her heartbeat in the hollow at its base. That pulse point which he felt increasing in rate as his hands moved lower, passing her breasts, half hidden by her bodice and binding. Over her flat stomach where they came to rest briefly before Morgana took action and lifted herself enough to remove the rest of their clothing.

Inside her, Gwaine slid smoothly, already in rapture with her mere glorious and naked presence above him.

Before movement commenced, Morgana grabbed his shoulders, pulling him up into a sitting position with her, each fraction of their skin now in contact with each other's. His arms went around her back, holding her to him, his strength breaking hers as they began to move. Their lips met on occasion, allowing Gwaine to notice the strange yet tender innocence within her kisses. For all her bravado, she seemed inexperienced in this area, which had send him careening over the edge more than he ever had before. Perhaps, the only inkling of innocence she had left was now being taken by him, and she was letting him, she wanted him to take it.

He could lie and claim he wasn't honoured.

A powerful witch-queen such as Morgana had bared herself to him, choosing him to be the father of her child; her heir. It hadn't mattered to Gwaine whether her wanting of this was to protect her legacy and carry on her dynasty, without the interference of her half-brother Arthur. He knew that Morgana too felt something more than lust for him. Now, what that was, again he hadn't slightest clue. No matter, he thought as he buried his face into her neck while they reached their climax in unison, completely taking all of her in, forgetting all else in the cruel world.

It took Morgana longer to recover than Gwaine, so as he waited for her to regain her initial strength, to hopefully begin again, he pondered their significance. He thinks of how he could love her, if given half the chance.

Hours passed and they continued their sexual-deeds more than anyone would think necessary. Their desires flared many a time throughout the night and well into the wee hours of the morning.

After his seed had been spilled into her, hoping that she had conceived from all the activity, Gwaine lay naked beside her - equally exposed - sleeping form. She hadn't ordered guards to throw him back into the dungeon cell he shared with Gaius and Elyan. He had tired her far too much for anything to be said before sleep came upon her: he'd completely surpassed her expectations of his abilities to appease many a fair maiden.

It had only been hours before, he realised, she had forced him to fight to the death or extreme exhaustion to be fed. Had he forgotten all that she had done to the kingdom he now called home? No, he hadn't, but he also realised how it all became of no consequence to him.

Were his friends in the dungeons being fed and watered? Had she honoured her word just as she had honoured him? For this, he regret to admit that he simply didn't care, at least in that moment they lay there with the single glow of moonlight illuminating through the castle's stain glass windows.

Gwaine turned his head to the side, finding Morgana in a peaceful slumber. She looked positively ravished, if he did say so himself.

He smiled to himself, blinking through tired brown eyes as he shifted himself closer to her. Their faces now inches apart but Gwaine hadn't dared to touch her. He had heard of her nightmares and didn't want to risk startling her from any sort of vision she may have been having. Doing so surely could cost him his life. Waking someone from a deep sleep troubled most, but with Morgana, magic was involved; magic she didn't seem able to maintain control of during exhilarating circumstances: she had, after all, convinced him of such during one of their rougher excursions. He would have scars to prove it.

Nonetheless, he continued to watch her attentively. He hadn't known her before she went into the darkness, and when the darkness was what she became, but he did, however, know that there was so much that she kept inside. She lived in a fairy tale, too far for anyone to find. He wishes he could follow her into her mind: the place in which she truly resides. A venture in which only a mad man would dare to take, but he hadn't ever claimed to be anything else.