Disclaimer: Don't own Merlin or its Characters... Just wishing I do... ;)
N/A : second attempt at the challenge dictionary, with the word 'Overheated'.
The grass under his back is wonderfully cool. Eyes closed, Arthur lets the breeze dries the perspiration on his face. Yes, escaping the oven of his bedroom to come down here for the night is the best idea he had in weeks! The summer is agonizing long this year. The peasants are worried about the lack of rain. Cattle are sharp-set. Several wells have run dry already. Usually, by the end of September, the villages are rushing into harvests and festivals are blooming. This year, the vicious temperature seems to increase a little more each day.
His hand hurts the wall behind his head when he stretches. The stone is still hot, overheated by the merciless sun. He sighs and looks up in the cloudless sky. The stars are glittering over his head like little diamonds. Thinking about diamonds reminds him of her. Nothing to help the heat down. He sighs again. Maybe he plays nice and go up to her chambers to invite her here. She's probably suffering from the heat as much as he does. Her apartment is opening on the west side of the castle. Even with the shelters closed all day long, her bedroom is surely burning hot. She won't sleep comfortably. It's his duty to see to her well-being. Yeah. Duty. Right. Who is he kidding? The scene crosses his mind: he will explain he is invading her private space in the middle of the night, duty call, and she will just glare down on him with those incredibly luminous eyes of her, perfectly composed with a knowing mischievous smile on her fascinating mouth. He groans. He is a masochist; definitely stupid. He stands up.
*
She is unable to sleep. Heat is getting on her nerves. She gets up for the billionth time; she opens the windows; closes them. She moistures her arms and her throat; she braids her long hair; let them down again. God. She rests her fore-head on the glass of her mirror. Its cool calms her for a while. At least, up here in the west aisle, she's got a little breeze. She feels guilty not having offered Gwen to stay for the night, instead of going back in the stiffing town. They would have had fun, gossiping about the knights. At least, today Arthur had shown some unusual good sense, and forbade training with armour. Why those men keep touching overheated metallic weapons and insist on physical exhaustion with such temperature is beyond her understanding. Well, at least they have the satisfaction of plunging into the lake.
She is not allowed such a relief. Frustrated, she takes her cheek of the warm surface and starts pacing again. A lady is not supposed to argue. A lady is supposed to show equal temper and composure at all time. A lady is not supposed to expose herself to unwanted stare. Well, the lady is hot, and edgy, and not at al happy right now.
She doesn't hear the light knock and she jumps when the door opens. Arthur ducks just in time not to receive her silver brush in the head. Exasperate, she glares, while, impassive, he picks up the brush and closes the door behind him.
« It's hot in here.
-- Oh really? I hadn't notice. Now, about knocking…
-- I did knock.
-- What do you want, Arthur? »
She's even more beautiful when fiery. It takes him a couples of seconds to be able to think again. Impatient, she tapes her foot.
« So? What do you want?
-- Water.
-- I beg you pardon? »
He wished like hell she didn't use that word. His mouth is so dry he can not even pretend to swallow. What is it in her that makes him act like an idiot… Breathing deeply, he tries his best to sound composed and annoyed.
« If you're done with throwing things at me and bitching, maybe you'd like going to the lake. So you can freshen up. »
His voice just croaks in his ears. But to his enormous satisfaction, she's the one speechless.
Did he just propose to disobey his dear father's orders and to escort her to the lake for a swim? This is… adorable. This is so… Not Arthur. She frowns.
« What's the catch? »
Temper rises, washing away uneasiness and he regrets to have come up.
« No catch. My every moves are not traps for you to fall in, Morgana. »
She blushes. This is a sweet novelty. She's lovely well she blushes.
« I know.
Do you, really? »
He can not keep the sarcasm out of his voice. She really gets a knack for pissing him off. She gives him a tentative (tempting) smile.
« Yes, I do. »
He can't stay mad at her when she smiles. He offers his hand:
« Come on, then. Let's go. »
Tomorrow, they will return to their constant bickering. For now, they'll just enjoy a cool night in a very long and overheated summer.
N/A Turned out better than my first try... Or so I want to believe :)
Reviews are always nice, thank you!