I've always liked love/hate storylines, particularly ones where a couple is put into challenging circumstances, only to come out of it together. This story takes place pretty quickly after the end of Series 3.

A Thin Line

Chapter 1

He was having the best dream.

She smelled amazing, like lilacs and cinnamon. Homey and exotic at the same time. And her hair was soft, he rubbed his cheek against it. Like spun silk. She moaned softly, her back arching and pushing her luscious bottom right against his very aroused flesh. He groaned in response, burying his lips in her neck. He pulled her closer, rubbing his hand in circles on her cloth covered belly.

"Mmm," she murmured, the sound vibrating against his lips at her neck. His thumbs brushed against the undersides of her breasts. She was so full and lush, he was dying to touch her, to rip off her bodice and feast on her-

Clink. And then another clink. There was a weight on his hand and he felt a slight throbbing in his head.

It was then he realized it wasn't a dream. This wasn't his bed and he didn't usually have a woman next to him. His eyes opened and he shot up, taking in his surroundings.

They were in some type of dungeon (he'd been in Camelot's enough to know what one looked like.) The room was dark and damp surrounding, with the straw pallet and a small bench on one side. A small barred window at the top of the tall room let in few rays of light. There were slots on the walls to hold chains and manacles.

Suddenly remembering the clink sound which had awakened him, he looked down at his manacled wrist. Only his hands weren't manacled together or to the wall like one would expect. Rather he was attached to a woman's delicate wrist.

It was then that he noticed the woman next to him. Or rather he noticed exactly who it was.

He was manacled to a woman with brilliant jade eyes, dark raven hair, and lips the dark red of sin. It was Morgana-his mortal enemy, traitor to Camelot, Arthur's half sister, and the sorceress who'd nearly killed him and numerous others mere months ago.

And most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, one who had enchanted him from the moment he set eyes on her.

Her eyes fluttered a few times and a soft smile curved her lips before she looked at him and shot up. "You!" she said with all the hatred and disgust that one said of vermin. She backed away as far as the chain would allow, her eyes angry. "What have you done? Where am I? Oww…my head."

"Here, let me help you," he said, reaching for her head.

"No!" she practically shouted again as she slapped his hand away. "Don't touch me!" Tenderly she touched the slight bump on her head and winced. "You probably did this to me."

"Yeah, and right after, I gave myself one," he said, pointing to the same bump on his head.

She gave him a hard stare but said nothing.

Looking around, she said tersely, "Where are we?"

"A dungeon. God knows where. But I forgot, you've only been in Camelot's once. What a hard life you must've lead," he said sarcastically.

Her reaction to his touch had wounded him, reminding him of exactly how much she hated him. Mere moments before she had welcomed his touch, now he was a pariah, untouchable.

"You have no idea. You never did," she said with venom. He had to bite his tongue at that response.

She was the one who had no idea. No idea of the hardships he faced on a daily basis, no idea how difficult it was his keep his magic a secret, to constantly work toward a destiny that seems so out of reach. And now he was trapped in the dungeon with a woman who loathed his very existence. Yet another thing he had to contend with.

Jingling her wrist at the manacles, she said, "How the hell did this happen?"

"No idea. I….er…woke up like this." He tried to sound harsh and to avoid blushing as the memories of exactly how he woke up assailed him. It wasn't easy. He could still remember the perfect way they fit together, her bottom notched against his groin. But she was his enemy, one thing he shouldn't forget.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, both pondering the implications of their present situation. He was desperate to try some of his magic, to see if he could undo this mess and get them both out of there. But it was too risky, he would have to wait until she was asleep or not glaring at him with hatred as she was now. Or maybe…

"Can't you just magic your way out of here? Or at least out of these?" he said, indicating the manacles around their arms.

She pulled back on manacles, "Good idea, Merlin. Then I'll leave you to rot in this place."

Her eyes suddenly glowed orange as she muttered a quick spell. Moments passed and nothing happened. She stayed in the room and she stayed chained to him. She whispered the words again and her eyes lit up.

And still nothing. She cursed loudly.

"What? Not powerful enough? Or do you really want to spend more time with me, my lady?" he said with mock humility.

"Neither. As you've seen many a time, Merlin, I'm plenty powerful. But my magic won't work here. And it appears I've answered our other question. I know exactly where we are," she said.

"Oh?" said Merlin.

"Yes, Merlin. We're in Cenred's dungeon, or rather what used to be Cenred's before Morgause killed him. It's Orsric's kingdom now, which means that we're both in a whole mess of trouble."

Just then the door opened with a loud and rusty squeak to emit the very man they had just spoken of.

Flanked by two guardsmen entered King Orsric, Cenred's cousin and heir to the throne. And if the rumors were to be believed, a cruel man who used any means necessary to get what he wanted. He was ruthless, dangerous, and something of a madman. It was whispered that he would torture his own mother if she had information he needed.

They both stood as the dangerous tyrant entered. A hardened warrior, his tall form showed layers of muscle, well hidden beneath expensive yards of fabric. He wore no crown but the deadly look on his face showed blatant authority. He silently surveyed the room and took in their straw covered clothing and manacled hands.

"More than a 'mess' of trouble, I'd say. I hope you've been comfortable here, my lady," he said in a voice of what would be considered courtly politeness, if not for the steely undertone.

"Comfortable? Really? You call this comfortable? Chaining me to my half brother's serving boy and throwing me into your dungeon? How dare you! When my sister hears of this she will-" said Morgana angrily.

Orsric interrupted, "Such a temper. I've heard it's your undoing. And your sister will know of this soon enough. She's the reason you're here."

"What do you mean?"

"Haven't you guessed? I want revenge for the death of my cousin. I can't deny that Morgause made me a King, but the people clamor for revenge. And I'm more than happy to oblige," Orsric boredly examining his blood stained nails.

"Then what am I doing here?" said Merlin boldly.

"Ah, yes, you. I also have plans for Arthur. Thinking of expanding my boundries. And while I thought he might not come for the half sister who nearly destroyed his kingdom, he has a decided attachment to servants in his household. Besides, if he doesn't come, I can always torture information about Camelot's weaknesses out of you."

"Never," said Merlin dangerously.

"Don't be so cocky, my dear boy. Tongues loosen rather quickly after a few pulls from my many tools. But keep up that bravery, it might do you some good here," Orsric said, suggestively running his eyes over Morgana.

"When I get out of here, Orsric, I'll tear your bollocks off!" shouted Morgana, advancing towards him. Merlin quickly saw that she was ready to attack and knew that it would mean death for both of them. He looped his arm around her waist and held her back as she fought to get at the Orsric.

"Again, that temper, my lady. Besides, considering that your sister was kind enough to block magic in this dungeon for my cousin's magical prisoners, that won't be happening any time soon. I'd suggest you two enjoy my hospitality. And try not to kill each other. Well, at least not yet." And with those parting words, he swept out of the room and slammed the door.

"Let me go," she said pushing his arm away. "You should've let me at him."

"Oh and get us both killed? I think not. Orsric's a brutal bastard. One scratch and he would've killed you. Or at the least have given you a hit you wouldn't soon forget."

"I didn't realize you cared so much," she said with mock sweetness.

"I don't care about you," he said. Well, that was something of a lie. He'd seen the glint of steel in Orsric's eyes. Orsric had wanted Morgana to fight, he just needed an excuse to hurt her. "I just don't fancy being latched to a dead body."

FINIS

Should I continue? A bit angsty, I know. I haven't really attempted to write a post Series 3 fic about these two, I usually prefer to rewrite history so that Morgana doesn't go completely evil. Anyways, I hope you've enjoyed this. Not entirely sure where this is going to go but I'm sure they'll be some interesting sexual tension between these two (which means the rating will go up). Please review!