A very short one shot I wrote that was a bit angsty when I wrote it. I always find that when you're upset it's best to write the angst out so you can breathe again.
It's somewhat of a sequel to my first one shot between Merlin and Morgana. Go check it out if you like this one.
Enjoy!
He hated dinner.
Not with Gaius of course. He loved listening to the old man's tales of years past and bringing up the images of better times where magic was the norm and things were peaceful.
But when it came to dinner with Uther, listening to the lilting laugh of the Lady Morgana, it made him clutch the wine pitcher in his hands closer to his chest.
"Merlin…" Gwen whispered with her back to Uther and the rest of the table.
Merlin looked up from his daydream. "Hm?"
"Are you alright? You're hands are red and you look horrible."
Merlin looked down at his hands. They were sweating against the silver metal. The tension in his shoulders was mounting to the point of pain, and there were purple bags under his eyes.
He looked back at Gwen and shrugged. "It's nothing really. Probably just a cold. I'll have Gaius look at it when I get back…"
Gwen nodded at him, doubt in her eyes. As she walked back to get more of the strawberries Morgana loved so much, Merlin refilled Arthur's glass, who gave him a questioning look. Apparently the prince had also seen the state of Merlin's gaunt face.
The dinner was uneventful: a few comments about Morgana's upcoming birthday, Arthur's basic comments on the troops, and Uther mentioning something about the hunt that was set for the morning.
"Morgana, do you have any plans tomorrow?" Uther asked. "It will be awfully empty without Arthur and I here."
"As well as the rest of the knights," Arthur added.
Morgana laughed that seductive laugh again, and Merlin swore she looked at him for the briefest second. "Oh, don't worry my Lord. I will have plenty of things here to…entertain me."
Merlin knew exactly what that meant. His face flushed, and Morgana smirked at that.
Merlin didn't know what to think. He had assumed that the week or so that she had left him alone meant the events between them had not happened. He had believed that it was nothing more than a dream, an erotic nightmare that shouldn't have existed.
It wasn't that he didn't want her. By the Gods she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She had to be the most spectacular being in the entire kingdom, and he wasn't the only one that lusted after her.
However, Merlin had sense. He knew his place and he knew hers. Had they been caught…he shuddered at the thought of that axe looming over his neck.
"Merlin!"
Arthur's call brought him back from his gruesome daydream. Arthur's cup was in the air, and he was embarrassed to see that the trio of royals sitting at the table were glaring straight at him. He swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. "S-sorry sire." He refilled the goblet.
"Merlin…" Morgana's voice lapped at his large ears. "You look absolutely exhausted. Perhaps you should retire." She laughed. "I am sure that we can handle a simple wine pitcher."
Uther stared, suspicious. But he finally waved the poor boy away, and Merlin bowed in gratitude.
Morgana dreamed.
She was blind. She could see nothing but the eminent blackness before her. She was going to scream, call for someone in the void, but before she could open her lips, something covered them.
Or someone.
"Morgana…" a voice whispered in her ear. Merlin? She thought. She couldn't be sure.
Teeth nibbled at her earlobe, making her shudder. She ran her hands along her body, realizing that she was naked. But she wasn't ashamed. In fact, she felt hot, a light sheen of sweat covering her body already. She was happy for the missing layers of fabric she felt forced to wear. And the hands that were on her hips were caressing up to her breasts. They plucked at her nipples, taunting her and teasing her until a moan escaped from her lips.
The hot breath on her neck was nothing short of sensuality in the physical form. One hand pinched a nipple harder than she was expecting, eliciting a moan from her as the other phantom hand trailed lower to her womanhood.
She felt hot…too hot…like she was…burning.
She suddenly smelled smoke, suddenly realizing that her dream was taking a dangerous turn.
She was tied to a wooden post, the hands that had once caressed her now treacherous. She screamed as soldiers without faces threw the fire underneath her, as it spread, licking at her feet and rising…
The only face she saw clearly, the only one that caused her inconsolable sadness was not that of Uther…
It was Merlin.
