Title: A Close Shave
Author: Canon_Balls
Spoilers: None
Paring: Arthur/Morgana
Disclaimer: I own nothing from the BBC/NBC show Merlin, and I make nothing from writing about it either. Suing me would be silly, as all you would get is a very grumpy King. This particular story, however, is mine. So hands off ;D
"Is big, bad Arthur afraid of helpless, little Morgana?"
"Hell yes. You've got a knife."
Morgana flicked the pad of one elegant finger over the tip of her dagger. "Hmm, yes I do. You're very quick, aren't you? Is that what makes you such a great king?"
Arthur rolled his eyes at her. "Give over. I'm smart enough not to let you get anywhere near my throat with that damned blade."
Morgana pushed her bottom lip out in a sexy little pout. Arthur's eyes dropped to her mouth and stayed there, transfixed. Seeing this, Morgana tried not to smile. "You said you'd do anything for me. That you loved me."
"I love you enough not to deprive you of my company. Which is what will happen if you slit my throat and I die. Get away from me with that thing."
"I know how to use it properly," she said, as she ran the tip lightly down her own throat to rest in the shadowy valley between her snowy breasts. Arthur's gaze followed, helplessly, transfixed.
He croaked out, "I bet."
"So you'll let me?" Morgana couldn't help the note of triumph in her voice.
"What?" Arthur shook his head, and recovered the few wits he had left. "No! Go on, leave me in peace."
He moved away from her to his desk, sitting down in his chair. "I have important things to do. Run the kingdom. Save the world. Look amazingly handsome in my tunics. Read…stuff." He randomly moved some parchment around.
Morgana followed him, not giving up. "What if I let you do something in return?" She ran her free hand up his shoulder to tousle in his shaggy hair. "Something to me?"
Arthur cocked a suspicious eye at her. "Like what?"
Morgana pretended to consider his question. "Oh, I don't know. How about kiss me at our wedding?" She leveled a steely gaze at him. "Or ever?"
"How did you get so good at blackmail? It's like you were born with the talent."
She shrugged, and her mouth quirked up at the corner. "A girl has to work with what she's got."
"An empire could work with what you've got." He leaned back in his hair, a resigned look on his face. "Couldn't I just have Merlin, I dunno, magic it off?"
Morgana tried to look horrified. "Of course not! What if his magic slipped? Took your eyebrows too? Made you bald? I couldn't trust that gorgeous face of yours to anyone but me."
Arthur tried, but he couldn't for the life of him figure out if she was kidding or not. "Better bald than dead. At least from where I'm sitting. I'm not sure you'd agree."
"Of course I'd agree, my love. I have lots of plans for you after our wedding, and they all require that you be alive. And in one big piece." She winked, and he squirmed in his chair.
Arthur rubbed his hand along his beard, and mumbled irritably, "I don't see what the big deal is anyway. It's only a beard. It's manly." At Morgana's snort, he narrowed his eyes.
She leaned over and cupped his hairy jaw. "I promise to be very, very careful. But I'm not kissing you again, until we shave that haystack off your face. It chafes." She stared him down.
Finally, to get her the hell off his back, Arthur acquiesced. "Fine. Slit my throat for your own pleasure. I don't care anymore. As long as you cease your badgering, and kiss me afterward. Especially at our wedding."
Morgana whirled and ran for the door. "Gwen! Bring in the water. And the sharp knife, the one with the six-inch blade."
"Now wait a minute…"
"Oh, and my rose-scented soap."
"That's it, you can bloody well forget it!"