2nd Upload. Beta'd by the wonderful confuddledangel.

Arthur was always told that he thought about things too much, and tonight was no exception, as he sat in his favourite chair by the fire thinking over the previous day's events. He had never quite understood why people were so emotional around death; Arthur just saw it as a fact of life. You're born, you live, and you die, he had seen death before and he would see death in the future, he was not so naive as to think otherwise. When he walked into her chambers, the air stifling and the atmosphere thick, and saw her lying, cold and inert on her bed, everything stopped moving. It was as if his whole world seemed to still, and even the general chatter surrounding her seemed to turn into a dull drumming sound in his skull. When he saw her skin, translucent against the cream sheets, and he couldn't bear to look at her without feeling a dull ache in his heart he knew, in that moment, that insignificant cluster of seconds, he realised that everything else he was going through, no matter how important it seemed before seemed to fall away into nothingness.
Arthur groaned and lolled his head back. He had debated whether or not to visit Morgana all day and still hadn't reached a viable conclusion, he had reasoned that she needed to rest, and with the flurry of visitors she had undoubtedly received, she probably wasn't in the mood for company, especially from the insufferable prat of a Prince she clearly saw him as. He decisively levered himself from his chair and strided over to the door, pulling it forcefully open, wincing as it swung back loudly on its hinges. The silence in his chamber was deafening, he needed to get away from his conflicting emotions even for a moment and on his way, if he ended up at a certain brunette's door then so be it.

Arthur strode through the damp corridors, shivering slightly in the cool winter air as he went, soon regretting taking the open passageways of the outer castle walls that allowed a stunning view of dormant Camelot at night. Although it was undeniably beautiful it was always bloody freezing, if he ever saw the architect again he might have to hit him on his head with the butt of his sword to teach him a lesson.
He placed his hand on Morgana's door, his body willing him to twist the cold iron handle but his mind backing out like the coward he knew deep down he was. He took a long, deep, cleansing breath and pushed the door open. She was sat opposite the fire, a thick woollen blanket wrapped around her shoulders; she seemed almost mesmerised by the flames as they danced in the fireplace. Her hair was loose and unbrushed around her shoulders and she still held the same sickly pallor that she had when she was laid? unmoving in her bed. She looked up startled as her door creaked loudly, her eyes widening in surprise. She immediately straightened up and attempted to smooth out her dress.

'You could have knocked at least' she said sternly as he moved round to sit on the edge of the bed next to her.
'How are you feeling? Are you cold? I could fetch you another blanket if you'd like.' He moved to get up but Morgana stilled him, pushing him down by the arm softly into the bed. She smiled at him slightly amused by his submissiveness as he looked around her chamber, taking in every little detail.
'You know Arthur you fret almost as much as your father.' She chastised lightly, some vibrancy apparent in her voice and traces of colour appearing on her face. The room echoed in silence as there was an awkward pause. Arthur flipped the ring on his index finger around nervously as Morgana returned her stare to the fire, basking in its warming glow.
'I missed you,' the words slipped out of his mouth before he realised what he was even saying, she swivelled her head around sharply, eyebrows raised. 'What I mean is it was quiet without you, far too quiet.'

She smiled inwardly and turned to watch the fire again. She always seemed to have this effect on Arthur, made him open up far too much for his liking, made him say things that he would usually keep locked in the darkest recesses of his mind. He always seemed to revert to an almost childlike state; he seemed so vulnerable and alone. Arthur was hardly a proficient actor but he certainly kept this side of him secured tightly away from public view most of the time. Morgana soon realised that Arthur was staring intently at her, studying her features with a look of utter concentration like she was a beautiful work of art on the wall. She turned around a met his eyes, a playful smile plastered on her pale lips.

'Thank you Arthur, for coming to visit I mean.'
'I thought you'd be sick of the sight of well wishers.'
She smiled bitterly an ornate sadness in her eyes 'Besides your father, you are my only visitor since I've woken. Well besides Gwen of course.'

In that moment it hit him just how similar their lives were. This fierce, proud and stubborn woman was completely alone and to look at her now, so completely devoid of companionship apart from him, in truth it broke his heart a little. They were so similar that Arthur wondered for a fleeting second whether there was any possibility they were related but brushed it off. Every day they would surround themselves with friends, if you could call them that, but when they needed them most, the pair were left alone to brood silently in their chambers. She closed her eyes tiredly and Arthur stood up, silently making his way behind Morgana's chair. He sighed as he reached his hand up tentatively to stoke a piece of hair from her face before reassuringly placing a tender kiss on her forehead such as a nurse would do to a fevered child. She twisted round so she was face to face with him. Their blue eyes locked on to each other in symphonies of emotions, she looked so fragile Arthur contemplated but as beautiful as ever, her eyes softened as she stared at him with a curiously contented look on her face. Arthur leaned in; bracing himself for a slap but none came. Instead she closed the gap, the lips meeting in one single, perfect moment. The kiss was tender and slow with none of the expected turbulence that the pair were known for.

It was defiantly not what Morgana had expected from their first kiss; it contained none of the fire that she expected. She had always assumed Arthur would sweep her off her feet in a flurry of heated passion and desire mixing with pure lust, but this was better; Arthur was sweet and calm and Morgana found herself sinking into his body whole heartedly as he enveloped her with feelings Gwen had only told her about. The intensity of the moment making her feel dizzy, Morgana pulled back first.

'Thank you Arthur.' She said in an almost whisper. Now she was feeling better. She felt whole again.