Rating: M for a reason

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended; these characters belong to Merlin and the BBC, I own nothing.

Pairing: Morgana/Arthur

For T.D. and Mimi. You were very kind to request I write something for these two characters in the Merlin universe, and I sincerely wish you love it.

I am not a Merlin-pro; I have watched it with great joy in order to write this, so, please dear reader, don't be too harsh if I have made unforgivable errors.

Takes place before the proverbial shit hits the fan in Camelot.

Also, please note that I am well aware that these two characters are related, though they are not aware of it at this point, but frankly, I don't care if you don't. If it offends you, maybe give this a miss.

It's going to be two chapters only. Thank you everybody for reading, I hope you enjoy. x

WS

Of course it had to stop one day.

He knew that.

And he very much suspected she knew it too.

What was it even all about? They weren't children any more; she was certainly not a child any more, so why did she still get nightmares? In broad daylight, in "real life" as they had always referred to it when they were huddled under the blankets together at night when they were children and she had had one of her bad dreams, Morgana was the strongest, most infuriating, most stubborn, most obnoxious, most angry and most no-nonsense girl he had ever met. Not girl...woman, he reminded himself and gently hit his forehead repeatedly against one of the four posts of his bed.

There was this unspoken deal between them. She would come to him when she was afraid at night and he would never ridicule her fear, her unexpected vulnerability. He told her his own little secrets in return, and none of it ever left the safety of darkness.

Back in real life, they couldn't wait to torture each other.

And now, years later, their deal had suddenly left him stranded between a rock and a hard place. And it was getting worse. Because she was getting...somewhat irresistible.

"Arthur, I want you to look after Morgana like she were your own sister, do you understand me?" Uther had demanded the day she arrived in Camelot.

"Yes, father, of course," he promised, frowning at the grumpy looking young girl.

Their conversation from all those years ago was fresh in his mind again now, his father's words playing on repeat. Like a sister. But she wasn't his sister, was she?

"Stop it, stop it, stop it," he mumbled and felt every bit like the crazy lunatic he was. He tried to not recall the light scent of gardenia that had kept him up all night. Lately, he hadn't been able to sleep a wink in her presence. When had things changed?

Last night he would have given anything to bury his face in her hair and take her in fully, but instead, he didn't dare move, his heart racing, his skin on fire.

"Gardenia," he mumbled, and slammed his head against the post a bit harder. "What the hell even is a gardenia?"

"Gardenia, sire? It's a flower. They are..."

"Shut up, Merlin, I know what it is," Arthur snapped at his servant and left his chambers. He had to go and...do...something...anything.

WS

There had been a time when they were young teenagers when her dreams became less frequent, and often months and months would go by without her sneaking into his room. He started thinking she'd grown out of it, and he was okay with that at the time.

Until it happened again, and this time it was different. Not as carefree, not as playful, not as silly. Normally, she would always ask his permission, and he would lift the covers for her to slip into bed next to him, but that time she had no words, appeared almost apologetic, and it had carried on exactly like that for the past five years.

She would appear seemingly out of thin air, slip into his bed beside him and curl herself into him, seeking his warmth and his nearness. He'd pull her closer, his arm wrapped around her, a hand resting on her stomach.

He hardly ever noticed her leaving any more, either, and if it wasn't for her scent and a collection of long black hairs he would carefully collect and dispose of before anyone- Merlin- could grow suspicious, he wouldn't have even known she'd been there at all.

Often, as he sat across from her at the table, did he contemplate what might be going on in her head, behind those beautiful green eyes, and how it was possible that two people knew each other so well and at the same time didn't know each other at all.

He knew it couldn't go on.

And it didn't.

Because then came the night their deal was broken and he told her to leave.

WS

Arthur had just managed to drift off when he felt a gentle tugging on his sheets. He knew it was her. For some reason he knew; he always knew.

They went through the motions of silence and comfort, and in the end it was her who made the fatal error.

She turned around to face him, and suddenly his hand was on her hip, her warm breath on his face. Her eyes were pale in the darkness, and her skin and hair covered with a silver gleam. He searched her face for something, but couldn't find it. He briefly wondered how long he'd been in love with her...

"What is it?" he asked, trying to breathe, trying to stop his hand from shaking, trying to ignore everything she was doing to him.

"Do you think some people are born evil?" she whispered and he watched her mouth.

"I don't know. I suppose they could be,"he replied quietly.

She didn't speak again, just looked at him, and more than anything did he wish to read her eyes. There was something there. Something. On the tip of her tongue, and she wasn't spitting it out.

"You think too much, Morgana," he whispered and brushed a strand of hair from her face. "Always have done. Turn around, let's go to sleep," he said with as little emotion as he could manage.

She did as she was told and pressed her back further into him, and he held her tightly.

"Arthur," she whispered into the darkness, and there was something about the way his name fell from her lips that made him shudder.

"Shhhh, go to sleep," he said, and against his better judgement he moved his face another two inches towards her and buried it in her dark hair.

She wiggled her body ever so slightly even tighter against him, and he couldn't help himself but run his strong hand down her side and up. She shifted again, revealing the soft skin on her neck, and he simply couldn't not go there with his lips to get just that one little taste...Only when she let out a little moan did he snap out of it.

What the hell was he even doing?

Like this didn't already look like the very definition of sin.

"Treat her like she's your own sister." Remembering Uther's words almost knocked him for six.

"Stop moving," he tried, a piss poor attempt to laugh it all off.

"Why? I was enjoying tha..."

"Morgana. Stop!" he said and sat up. "I... Go. Please. I...can't think straight. Please...just go," he ran his fingers through his hair and shook his head violently from side to side.

Without another word Morgana left his bed and returned to her own.

WS

He spent the next few days riding like a maniac and beating the living daylight out of anyone and anything. He lost his appetite completely, yet never seemed to run out of energy.

Morgana avoided him. And she did a good job of it, too. So much so that every time he accidentally saw her, his mouth went dry and he felt like someone had stabbed him in the gut.

The only time he found himself in close proximity of her was at dinner, and one look at her revealed that she wasn't hurt about him kicking her out that night, but fuming. Not that he was able to look at her much at all, but then again, he didn't really have to, because it was all going on in his head 24/7. He couldn't shake the image of that night...all he could think about was her neck and the feel of her sexy little body against his, and how easy it would have been to just roll on top of her and...

"What on earth are you brooding over, son?" Uther asked, unable to conceal his annoyance about yet another meal spent in silence.

Arthur cleared his throat "It's nothing, father," he replied, avoiding Morgana's eyes.

"Whatever you say," Uther mumbled.

Everybody knew Arthur was lying.

And two people ended up pushing food around their plates for the next twenty minutes.

Arthur never could have imagined just how heavy and uncomfortable the unspoken would lie between them. Not once since the moment they first met did they find themselves in a situation where an argument or a minor disagreement could not be resolved by a bit of playful banter. Or by pulling her hair...or stabbing him in the ribs, pushing her off a horse, or her beating him mercilessly in a sword fight.

He wanted it to have been a mistake, but he knew it wasn't. He pretended for days that he didn't know what he wanted, but he knew damn well. He wanted to be able to settle this, wanted to pull her hair; and then fuck her senseless. And that was that, the truth, and it could never be.

With his dirty little fantasy out in the open he knew he could never look at her the same way again.

WS

"Why has Morgana sent me to tell you that she wants to see you?" Merlin asked with that puzzled look on his face.

"What?" Arthur looked up from his desk. "Wh...I don't know, Merlin, why don't you go and ask Morgana?"

"I'm only saying...she isn't normally that polite, I mean, she is polite, it's not that she's not polite, but why doesn't she just come here and..."

"Merlin!" Arthur interrupted. "I don't know. And I don't have time. I need to..."

"Yes?"

"Do..."

"Stuff?"

"Yes, Merlin, I need to do stuff. And I don't know when I'll be back. Please let my father know that I will not be back for supper."

"Yes, sire," Merlin looked after him and shook his head.

What was wrong with them all?

WS

"If you are waiting for me to apologize, Arthur, you can wait a thousand years."

Her voice came calm and collected from a dark corner of his room, and he could do nothing but say her name.

"Morgana."

How long had she been waiting for him? It had been dark for hours, most of Camelot was asleep already.

"I have nothing to be sorry for, and you know it," she told him and stepped into the light. He looked away, resisted the temptation to be utterly mesmerized by her.

"I am not looking for an apology, Morgana. I am sorry if I left you thinking that."

"You left me thinking all sorts of things, Arthur," she said, and there it was again; the way she said his name. "You are avoiding me. Why?"

"I thought you were avoiding me," he mumbled and started re-arranging things on his desk.

"I was, but now I'm not, so talk to me."

"Morgana, please leave me alone."

"Not until you've answered my question. Why are you avoiding me? Come on, Arthur. Spit it out."

He waited.

Seconds.

Minutes.

She didn't move, he couldn't breathe, and then finally: "I am not avoiding you," he said and looked at his hand on the wooden table top. "I am distancing myself from you. I believe it is for the best."

"Is that so?" she asked and he could hear her slowly walking towards him, and with every step she took, his heartbeat quickened.

"And I don't wish to talk to you about what happened. Seriously, Morgana. Just...go, because I can't..."

"I don't want to talk about what happened, either, Arthur, because what does it matter now?" she snapped. "I want to talk about what did not happen."

"Morgana. Leave it," he warned in a low voice.

"What if I won't, Arthur?" she teased, and he finally turned around to face her. He stood up tall, towering over her, regaining control.

"To be honest, I don't even know what you are talking about," he said and turned away from her again, tried to leave her standing there looking a fool.

"You're a terrible liar, Arthur Pendragon," she hissed and pulled him back around to face her. "I saw it in your eyes, and don't tell me I am wrong. I know what you were thinking."

"Thinking?" she shouted at her, suddenly unable to hold it together any more. "I wasn't thinking, Morgana, but now I am, so please will you just go? Get out," he said and couldn't help himself. He picked up a random ornament and threw it across the room. The noise was incredible, but Morgana didn't flinch, didn't move.

The silence that followed was fantastic.

"In case you were wondering," she whispered. "I wanted it, too. I want it. I have wanted it for so long. I always thought that one day it would happen, but I never thought you'd be afraid of me," she said frankly, and pushed him aside, making her way to the door. He ran after her, almost yanked her arm out of its socket and pinned her against the nearest wall.

"You know what happens when you play with fire, Morgana?" he whispered, and her eyes lit up.

"You get burned," she replied looking him straight in the eyes, and he was struggling to keep his balance suddenly, and so he pushed her even harder into the wall.

"Arthur," she whispered against his lips. "Let's."