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A King Foretold (Applepoisoneer- MellowYellow)

The darkly alluring woman did make a convincing case, his eyes drawn to the strange crystal ball as she held it out to him. He watched closely and then managed an awkward smile. "Hrm... well, being a king does sound a treat," he mused. Something told Arthur that when they took that first step, then he'd be locked onto one course with no turning back. "You're doing an awful lot for me... what do you want in return?"
 
Maeven retained her smile. "I only desire your tust and happiness." While that wasn't 100% true, she was very fond of the young lad. There was burning potential behind his, admittedly beautiful, blue eyes. "I have come to guide you down the path to your destiny." She continued. "And if the shadow of your glorious reign should happen to fall o'er me, than so be it."
 
"Well... I suppose I can believe that." But nothing truly came for free, did it? He'd keep an eye on Maeven, and what she wanted in the future, and for now would simply focus on following directions. "So the next step is to take part in this tournament... gaining entrance won't be hard, anyone is free to sign up. But getting the equipment needed is another matter I take it the end goal is to build a reputation?"
 
"You will have all that you need by the time of the tournament." She raised the staff to stand upright again and nodded at it, as though it had spoken. "Call for me just before you enter the arena, and I will give you all that you need. This is the first of three great feats the world will sing of you. The second will be the pulling of the sword, ordaining you as King."
 
The sword in the stone... he had heard of it, most everyone had, an particularly that the sword was an exceptionally picky entity. If he won the tournament and earned fame that, way, then pulled the sword from the stone, then it would be an uncontestable sign that he should be the next successor. Arthur gave 'Maeven' a wry smile. "Then I'm in. And um... thank you for this, nobody's ever done so much for me in my whole life."

Arthur hugged her suddenly, seeming not to mind her dark and imposing visage. His arms were lightly wrapped around the witch, just above her waistline. And he had to admit that she had a fine scent to her. Something he couldn't quite define.
 
A cartwheel of emotions rolled through the witch's mind; surprise, rage, curiosity and even a little warming flicker of joy. The flicker grew to a low flame, and she returned the slender young man's embrace, smoothing his hair with her long, dark fingernails. She kissed the top of his head, a gesture she'd seen done but never dreamed of doing. And the words that followed illuminated the gesture further. Before she could stop herself and see reason, she spoke from the place where her heart should have been.

"All I do, I do for you." She told him simply, in a voice that resonated like an iron bell from far away. "And as long as you love me, you shall never know the touch of misery."

Her own words rang in her ear, and she immediately hated herself for speaking them aloud. She was fonder of this man who would be kind than she had initially hoped. Mentally, she kicked herself, hoping that could shake it away, or send it passing more quickly, but instead, she tightened her embrace before letting him go.
 
In truth it had been a few years since the youth had known any affection, and that was perhaps one of the reasons why the witch's claws were able to sink deep. "Hehe..." his cheeks heated a little at that brief touch of her lips, an impish smile touching on his face. Well, perhaps there were some other reasons. He was at 'that' age after all, and sinister presence aside she made for a very beautiful woman.

"Then I suppose the next time we'll meet, it'll be at the tourney. I shall have to put a good deal of effort in, training and such, but I won't disappoint you," Arthur assured her. "Although, if you want to come by in the mean time... I would be happy to see more of you," the blond explained managing to look Maeven in the eye.
 
Swallowed up in his gaze as she was, she felt like a shadow exposed to a lantern. Her smile softened andslackened, but did not disolve completely. She thought about his offer and a kind of supercilious grin took its place. "Put the talisman under your pillow, and you will see me in the night. If you should so desire."

There were not many times when entering dreams was on her list of things to do. It was messy business that left her mortal body defenseless. But when it was done, it was always done to terrify, disarm and disable. Up until she mde the decision to offer a morphic encounter.
 
It had been a long day, and so Arthur didn't protest her decision too strongly. He moved to lay down on what passed for bedding in the stable, a stretch of straw and a modest pillow, and did as the witch instructed. He slid the coin under the pillow and closed his eyes. The weight of the day overtook him, and soon he found his eyes opening to reveal a warm and inviting countryside cottage. The world of his dreams, so warm, safe and inviting.
 
The heavy door to her chambers locked, Maleficent lay in her bed in a kind of funeral pose. On her back with her hands folded on her chest. She left her body behind and ascended to the dream plane.

In the cozy little cottage, she rose from the floor and stood before Arthur at the side of his bed. She grinned hungrily down at him from where she stood, casting him in her shadow.

"Beautiful dreamer, come unto me." She purred, allowing her black cloak and satine robes to slide from her shoulders Her cowl still encircled her neck and came to a point just above her breasts, matching the one between her eyes.

Her frame was willowy and taut beneath the mass of her clothing. Her smooth, unblemished skin sang with the warm light of the room, giving it the color of spring's first leaves. And thought the bredth of her hips was quite narrow, the swell of her breast was ample enough. Her eyes took the firelight and magnified it into glittering gold as they drank him in.
 
Just as she had said... there she was, looming over his body and casting a bit of a chill to counter the warmth of the radiating fireplace. As he saw her, he felt his youthful body stirring with a barely familiar sensation of arousal. He looked up as her dark attire slid down her body, eyes wide in shock and awe when he got a look at her rich bosom, the sculpted curves of her body. Quite impressive, certainly to him.

Arthur was hard by now, looking down briefly at his loose silky trousers and able to see the familiar bulging shape rising in the silky material. "O-oh," Arthur said in mild surprise. "Is this... what you had in mind for our meeting?" he inquired, before deciding to follow her lead and tossing his robes away, revealing his fit and trim upper body.
 
She sat on the edge of the now comfortable bed. "Is this not what you desired?" She tilted her head coquettishly, the horns of her helm becoming uneven. She rested her hands on her slim thighs and watched him disrobe. She supposed she'd been rather fast for such a young man, but she felt so starved now that the morsel was before her.
 
"I uh... w-well I think this has been on my mind..." Arthur replied. He felt it may have been somewhat awkward to say as much, but at the same time he doubted he could lie to a woman as wise as her. Now naked on the bed, everything in this dream feeling quite real to him, he glanced to his impressive cock as it stood fully erect. "How do we... W-well I suppose I'll follow your lead here."
 
Feeling a little rusty herself, Maeven crawled across the bed and poised herself over Arthur, angling herself to press her lips to his neck. She kissed along his collar bone, and every so often, took very gentle nips of his flesh. She reached her hand, still heavy with it's onyx ring, and massaged his already stiff member, rolling her fingers from its base with the skillful firm touch like kneading dough.
 
The teenage king-to-be felt her lips graze his neck in such a way that it immediately pulled a gasp of pleasure out of his mouth, his pulse going faster in is chest from the rush of sensations setting his body alight. To say nothing for the strange new sensations of a new hand meeting his cock. "Goodness..." he moaned softly, eyelashes fluttering while curious hands reached up to tentatively caress her bosom.
 
Maleficent caressed his lips with her own, rubbing his member until it was stiff enough to enter her. She poised her long, slim abdomen over his and thrust herself upon him, allowing him to penatrate her. He was the first mortal to have ever done so, though there were others. Very, very few others, but there were others. She ground herself against his hardness and grunted a little as she did so.
 
A mild hesitation filled him as he saw Maleficent move over him, and soon he became aware of how close her womanhood was to his impressive length. Arthur gasped as he felt the witch move into position and the heat became all the more prominent. "M-Maeven..." Arthur murmured, his breath grazing her pale green skin in hot white puffs of mist.
 
Was this really just a dream? The heat embracing his cock, the sweat on his brow, the strange ethereal scent in his nostrils... it all felt all too real to him. The young king-to-be moaned again and proceeded to roll and bounce his own slim hips to meet Maleficent's motions, working in deeper and deeper every time their hips moved to join. "I don't... know how to describe it but... I feel like I'm going to..." he said, trailing off into a few lusty pants.
 
The pressure seemed to build and build, almost without end, until the heat in his body became just too much for the blond to bear. He gave a sharp cry of pleasure, his spine arcing off the plush surface of the bed as hot waves of his seed came lancing outward in a series of hot bursts. His body hit the bed again, sweat gleaming on his body while the last ebs of heat steadily faded out of his slowly wilting cock.
 
"I... did you... really enjoy it?" Arthur asked in between quick pants of air, looking sheepishly toward the dark sorceress. That expression on her face did seem hard to fake. And it was certainly nice to have that warmth pressing into him, his heartbeat rising inside his chest. "I'm glad. You were amazing too," the teenage squire replied, smiling and closing his eyes. The warmth was so enticing, so tender and...

Arthur opened his eyes, and found himself once more in the stable. He gave a small sigh and moved to sit upright on the hay. That was a little disappointing, but his body did still ring with echoes of those pleasurable sensations. And if Maeven would do this with him in the future... the thought made Arthur grin as he rose to his feet. Yet another reason to win at the upcoming tourney.
 
A few weeks passed and preperations were being made for the tourney in London. Knights and their squires poured in and filled virtually every room at every inn in the up-and-coming town. The weather was well-suited to outdoor games, and showed no signs of worsening.

Maleficent watched through the eyes of her winged servant as the colorful banners and shields bearing the crests of noble houses passed below trees. She knew Arthur would be along shortly, accompanying his band of raggle-taggle pseudo-noblemen. And although she had plotted the way the wind ought to blow, she couldn't help but be filled with an ecitement for the lad's victory. Until she spotted someone shambling along the path and coming to stop at the roadside. A withered old man with a beard that practically reached his knees, clad in blue mage's robes. Fury welled in her breast, but she would not allow herself to act brashly. She would wait.

A smile curled over her features as a thought struck. Arthur would resist the old man's warning. And he would be devoted to her service. He would be hers forever. Not in the way that the crows or the piggish minions she had conjured. But willingly and lovingly. The very idea made her want to laugh and perhaps even weep a little. But what she would gain from him would be far greater than what he would gain from her. Or so she told herself.
 
The path to the city was a long and arduous one, the distance hampered by the harsh weather and the amount of gear needing to be brought up. But none of it, none of it was enough to dissuade Arthur from the destiny that had been set up for him. The blond had made his way northward with the others, powered by that same determination and the youthful determination inspired by what the witch taught him.

Eventually they reached the outer rim of the city, where all travelers were expected to set up camp. They'd arrived only the night before the games were set to start, and as night fell Arthur retreated to his tent. The blond still needed his equipment for the tourney. And he had an inkling that his shadowy advisor already had something in mind to give him.
 
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