Title: Insulation
Genre: Romance/Angst
Fan: Merlin, Merlin/Morgana
Rating: T for language and sexual references
Summary: Morgana is becoming desperate to be rid of her nightmares, but a certain warlock is not cooperating with her methods.
Author's Note: First piece I've done that I feel has any maturity in it. Please be as harsh and honest as you wish in your reviews. Thank you.
Disclaimer: I do not own the TV show Merlin or anything associated with it, including its characters and plot.
Words: 1,651

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His hands crackled with magic when he was at his most passionate. Those eyes flashed a bright gold as he skimmed his hand along the slope of her back, when his mouth nipped at her, when ecstasy bloomed a flush in his cheeks.

He was not broad like Arthur. Nor was he overtly masculine, but years of hard work had done him well. Her tongue traced the incline of his abdomen as an artist would their brush to canvas and he shivered at her low-eyed gaze. There was an innocence in him that knew not how to respond to a woman's affection, let alone of her bold variety. He stood still under her advances, let her soft hands pull his dirty tunic over his head and bare to the world his strained, hungry body. When her mouth first caught his and pulled the full lower lip into her mouth, he gasped and tentatively touched her waist. The night was cold and she was warm.

His intentions had been innocent, naïve even as he brought her her nightly sleeping draught and set it by her bedside. He never expected her to rise from her vanity with only a nightgown hanging off her little frame. Despite her size she stalked him as a fey would its prey, dangerous and tempting in her lingering touches, in her patient, primal dark eyes. Those very eyes glittered as she made her way to him, long hair framing her broad face. She was an image to behold in white, her hair a stark contrast from the pale satin of her skin. At the sight of her he stumbled for words, asking after Gwen, mentioning Arthur, Lord even Uther!, and his mutterings grew worse when her hands unwound his scarf slowly, hot breath on his neck as she removed his thin jacket. There was no romance when she slipped up his body, nibbled on his ear and murmured, "Keep me warm tonight," yet over the word 'warm' her hushed voice breathed 'awake' in his mind.

In the strangest way he seemed to understand, taking her tenderly into his arms. The nightmares had worsened and become more bizarre as scenes of death and lithe monsters danced across the back of her eyes. There was a panic in her aggression when she quickly tore his shirt over his head, when she pushed him back till his knees pressed to the bed and he sat back, looking up at her desperate and primal gaze.

"Morgana—," he started, but she hushed him, bending her head to claim his bruised lips, to wreak havoc on his senses as her tongue slid into his mouth. But when her hand curled the hairs at the back of his neck he fought, taking possession of her waist, large callused hands sliding to grasp her thighs. She shivered at the intimate touch and yelped when he yanked her forward to straddle his thin hips; she felt the first spark brighten his eyes. Hard and hot, she could feel him against her and she leaned closer, experimentally rolling her hips just to hear that sharp intake of breath. "Morgana, I—"

"No, Merlin," she hummed, still rotating her hips above him at a steady rhythm.

He groaned, burying his head in her neck, tongue lathing a sensitive spot on her skin, nibbling till it was red and her breathing grew faster. "Merlin, please…"

With a jolt, he ripped himself away from her even as she tried to draw him back.

"No, Morgana, no, I—oh…" She gave his ear a long suck and he staggered before twisting out of her reach. "No, you don't really want this, you could not possibly want this, and…oh—" he stilled her hips with a strength she did not know he had "—and you have got to stop that."

"Please, Merlin. Keep me awake," she begged, hands smoothing down his torso to unlace his britches and with a grunt he snagged her wrists.

Catching her chin, he brought it to face him, to look into his blue eyes. "Morgana, no."

Her dark eyes searched his sweet, honest face. Why did he have to be so fucking honest, so terribly moral? Yet even as she thought this, she knew it was the very thing she liked most about him: his everlasting sincerity. Even when he was obviously lying, amd it was always easy to see when he was, it was not for his own greedy profit, it was always for others. With a sigh she crawled of his lap, leaving him chilled and awkward. Going to stand by the window, her gown exposing one slender shoulder to his greedy eyes, Morgana did not know whether it was anger brewing a fire in her stomach or something else. Shame? God, even lust? She glanced back over her shoulder to where he stood, running a hand through his dark hair and she was surprised when she wished it was her own hand. Yes, she planned to use him: she saw how he followed the sway of her hips, he only needed encouragement, convincing—if only to keep those terrible scenes from her head for one precious night. She could trust Merlin; it was why she chose him.

"Am I doing something wrong?" she whispered to herself and he froze from where he was, bent over searching for his tunic. His mouth opened and closed as he searched for the right words. He could still taste her when he closed his eyes.

"You should try to get a good night's sleep. Gaius will be wondering…" Her eyes lighted on him with a new fire, her figure tastefully revealed by the lamplight.

"Then wear me out," she purred.

"Morgana, no. I-I-I need to go an-an-and—"

"You don't get it, Merlin! What it's like to have this secret, to know what you are seeing everything but can do nothing to make it right!!" she cried out, advancing on him with clenched fists.

Merlin hesitated before beginning: "I know it must be hard, but please—"

"No, you don't." Lord, he could barely get a word in edge-wise. "You—"

"Do not perceive to think you know so much about me, milady," Merlin bit out. There was the spine she knew he had, but she was confused as the air about him began to sizzle.

"Can't you just give me this one night? It's all I ask and I dare to be so bold as to say you want it," she cooed, voice like silk as she trailed a hand over his shoulders, down his spine, across his tense buttocks. He was perfectly stationary, his jaw muscle jumping as he closed his eyes.

Coming around to face him, she let a hand tickle the edge of his pants as she mouthed soft kisses across his flat chest. He had filled out once he came to Camelot where food was plentiful for the first time in his life, but there was an inherent scrawniness that strained his skin as his ribs poked through and tendons erupted into focus. What sinew of muscle he had was clearly visible but it seemed to only display his status and labor where she felt malleable, made for court life. Now as her lips tasted the sculpted slant of his stomach there was an equality that they had never been allowed to feel and it scared the both of them more than they realized. In the most sensual of ways their status had disappeared to leave just Merlin and Morgana.

"No, no, no, no, no—Oh, God, fine!" He pulled her head up to his and kissed her sweetly, so different from the way she had been attacking him. Every time she picked up the pace, placed a hand somewhere warm, he would adjust his hold on her to keep her hands above sea level and slow her advances. Morgana pressed forward so he would feel her breasts against his chest, but he just leaned back and grazed a gentle kiss across her forehead.

She gave a cry of frustration as he evaded each assault. "Why?!" she begged, tears sliding down the artful contours of her face. But he just drank her tears and held his hands gingerly at her back. She began to pound her fists into his small chest, sobs wracking her body, but he just curved his body around hers and took the blows as they came. "God, why is this happening? I don't want to see these things, I don't want to see these things, but oh they won't let me sleep, Merlin!" She was choking on her tears as she crumbled in his arms, letting him sweep her up and carry her to her bed. And he sat there with her, just sat there with her head curled up against his bare chest so his skin could absorb her sadness, her fear. She sniffed, embarrassed by her show of weakness, but she trusted Merlin for some Godforsaken reason. He had always been there.

"Uther kills people for being like me, for having one dream as I do every night. But to live knowing and hiding all of this is not to live at all…I just want something to keep me away from the dreams and I thought you could do that," she mumbled against his collarbone where her head rested heavily. "I hate being weak, why did I do this, why did I do this to you, oh God…" She hiccupped. The tears left scalding tracks across her cheeks.

"You're not weak. It's okay to be scared, Morgana, it's okay," he whispered, resting his forehead against hers as he began to rock her carefully.

"I'm so sorry." Her voice was barely a whisper now

"Shh." The hum in his chest soothed her and he held her snugly against him. Her eyes fluttered shut. "I'll keep you warm."

O0o0O

Thank you for reading.
Please review with your critiques. I would appreciate your honesty.