Doesn't belong to me
oO*Oo
Morgana smiles with frigid politeness as the intoxicated noble sitting beside Arthur reaches around the prince to stroke her arm and her elbow finds its way into her almost-brother's side.
"What, Morgana?" he hisses, annoyed, and she flicks her eyes pointedly towards Sir Grabby-Hands. Inebriated pig – and one of those was at least partly the prince's doing. Arthur rolls his eyes but willingly pries the man's hand away and pushes him towards his wilting wife. They'd come to this arrangement following a blistering lecture from Uther on 'lady-like behaviour in public' after Morgana had humiliated an important but unfortunately forward noble. Now Arthur shielded her from overly affectionate drunks, and she didn't embarrass them at banquets.
"Thank you, Arthur," she says stiffly. Usually Arthur is far quicker to protect her from drunken advances, but he's been acting quite strangely all night.
"Mmmmhmmm." The prince is gazing quite intently towards the left side of the hall, where Lady Isobel is chatting prettily with a minor lord. Ah, is Arthur nursing a fondness for the lady?
"Lady Isobel looks well, does she not?"
"Hmm? Oh, yes. I suppose." So, it's not Isobel that is holding Arthur's attentions.
"My cup is empty; where is my useless servant?" The prince continues and waves the goblet irritably. Merlin, looking as ridiculous as ever in the formal livery, hurries over with a frown.
Filling Arthur's cup, he grumbles, "How are you not completely drunk? This is the fifth time in ten minutes I've been over here!"
Now that he's mentioned it, Morgana realises that, in fact, he has been called to wait on his master rather uncommonly often… And with Arthur's odd actions…
The pieces begin to come together in her mind.
"Not all of us are light-weights like you, Merlin."
Morgana hasn't seen Arthur smile like that in a long time – it makes him more than beautiful. And the position of his eyes is more than interesting.
"Uh, sire, you do know that this isn't watered wine?"
"Of course, Merlin. I have an extremely refined palate."
"Right, should I just hover while you drown yourself then?"
"As you wish, Merlin."
With an eye-roll, the manservant withdraws.
Smirking, Morgana raises an eyebrow. "So your remarkable capacity has nothing to do with the fact that you've been topping up Lord Alwyn's drink all night?" she asks archly with a nod to Arthur's neighbour, who is now humming tunelessly into his beard.
"Don't be ridiculous. Why would I do that?"
"Oh I don't know. So you can ogle your manservant and engage in juvenile flirting, perhaps?
Delightedly, the King's ward watches a blush form on the prince's cheeks.
"Nonsense, Morgana. You may have had a little too much wine yourself." He answers smoothly, despite the blush.
"Of course, Arthur." Her tone drips with sarcasm.
"It's just… it's Merlin." Arthur blurts out helplessly.
"Of course, Arthur." This time she says it gently and Arthur goes back to staring at the dark-haired man across the hall.
They understand each other.