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You're a troll!

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All she could see in that moment was him: mesmerizing blue eyes widened in sincere surprise, pale pink lips slightly parted and an overall rather dumbstruck look upon his features that made him all the more cute. And then she ripped the door off its hinges.

Catrina took pride in the fact that her kind was both brave and determined, she herself would have gone to great lengths to obtain the crown of Camelot. But Uther was disgusting her beyond words, increasingly so, if that was even possible, in so many ways. Not only with the revolting attentions with which he, in his amorous haze, kept showering her, but just by being himself, a narrow minded, obnoxious and faint hearted hypocrite that she'd had to enchant. When she had committed herself to the task she was aware of the unspeakable horrors she would have to submit herself to in the process, starting with that new and positively repulsive body, which was clean and pretty, that skin she wanted nothing more than to claw off. Indeed only horrors seemed to lie ahead on her path, and no solace.

That, until one day of wonderful revelation. The fact that her secret was exposed to all had been a moment of sheer terror, but it was followed by one of blissful surprise. For not only had her true self been revealed to the others, but something had in turn been revealed to her – the true self of prince Arthur. While she'd considered him to be nothing but a brat, an obnoxious obstacle in her way to the throne, he now appeared to her in a completely different light. Oh, light indeed it was. For he was nothing like his father. Upon this proud and fierce man no magic should be worked, no magic had to be worked.

"You're a troll!"

There he stood, in all his glorious, leonine beauty, the knight that was every maiden's dream, uttering his fearless acknowledgement and acceptance of who she was.

"She's a troll! A giant, grey, stinking troll!" he'd shouted with manly determination but none the less gallantly, in full recognition of her womanly attributes.

Wild emotions had flooded her upon hearing his words. A sudden realization dawned upon her: Arthur, not Uther, was the man truly sent by the gods to be her destiny. It would be this magnificent prince that would rise to take the place of his wretched father at her side to share her glorious rule over Camelot. And then, partly because it had all been too much for one day and she had needed to be alone with her newly found happiness, partly because she'd wanted to impress him even further, she'd ripped the door off its hinges.


 

The silvery moonlight fell on his features as he slept peacefully. Catrina allowed herself a moment to take in his whole breathtaking being. He was beyond beautiful, her prince, in truth a dream come true. Maybe a bit too clean for her taste and thus lacking some essential body flavors, but imperfections made him all the more charming. She gently reached and pushed away a few strands of golden hair off his forehead with her claw, and then her massive palm gave a stroke to his jaw line.

She didn't know whether it was her caress, her delicate fragrance or the sheer magic of love that alerted him of her presence, but Arthur jumped from his sleep, flinching violently, with eyes wide as saucers.

"It is me, my love," she spoke in a coarse voice, thrilled to discover this new and unexpected part of him that was so vulnerable, so emotional. His eyes, locked with hers in an intense haze, told everything of the bond that locked their hearts together, incomprehensible to common mortals.

He struggled wildly beneath her weight and his hand made a desperate attempt to reach for his sword, but his strength was no match for hers.

"Fear not, my sweet prince!" she soothed. "I know that you are as virtuous as you are brave," Catrina added pulling him into an inescapable embrace.

"I just want you to rest assured that my heart is yours as much as your heart is mine," With that, she pressed her lips upon his in a passionate kiss, and Arthur collapsed back on the pillows, out cold.


 

"Arthur!"

His eyes snapped open.

"Arthur!"

He tossed his covers aside and jumped from the bed, grabbing his sword. "Who's there?"

"Merlin." came a familiar chuckle.

The price gasped. "You're back!"

"I never left!"

There was a sudden gloomy look upon Arthur's features. "You mean to say…"

"Yes."

"…you've been under there this whole time?"

"No! Of course not! No!" Merlin said rather defensive.

"Cause if you were…" Arthur drawled, pointing the sword to his chest.

THE END