"Come here."
Morgana Pendragon's imperious voice instantly compels Merlin to turn towards her, crossing the short distance over the floor to her, a shiver in his step. As he reaches her, Morgana gives him a sweet smile, and Merlin wraps his arms tightly around her waist.
"You shouldn't say things in that tone. It makes me flashback to when you were evil," he scolds, kissing the top of her head.
""Well, I'm definitely not evil anymore," Morgana lays her head briefly against Merlin's chest, then pulls away. "I just wanted you to help me choose a dress to wear to the feast tonight." She lifts two, one in either hand, raising her eyebrows at him in a question.
"You should wear the red one," Merlin points. Morgana rolls her eyes.
"You always say the red one. I think I'll wear the blue." She lays the long, deep blue dress with its complicated hem of lighter blue, embroidered waves over her wardrobe door. Merlin leans against the wall, arms folded as he watches his wife pull her day dress over her head.
"I still can't believe Arthur and Gwen are having a baby!" comes Morgana's muffled voice from inside the garment.
A grin splits Merlin's face. ""I know!" he says excitedly.
Morgana drops her dress to the floor and stands in her cotton shift, looking suddenly uncertain. "You do…you do like children, don't you, Merlin?" she asks him tentatively.
"Yeah, of course I do. We'll be wonderful godparents," he replies reassuringly.
Morgana hesitates, twisting her long hair gently around one finger. She looks nervous. ""Okay," she says, "That's good. Because the thing is…well, the thing is that I'm pregnant, Merlin."
Any fears Morgana might have had about his reaction are instantly dispelled as the court sorcerer leaps across the room, lifting his wife and spinning her, joyously, into the air.