II

Arthur woke up in his own bed, breathing hard and damped from sweat. He could almost feel the burn of broken ribs in his chest. On pure reflex, he checked his side. This was just a nightmare; a very realistic and very bad dream; but a dream none the less. He straightened up, and looked around him. It was still dark. He lied down on his pillows for a while, and then stood up. He had to be sure.

Morgana was in her bed, sleeping. He looked at her a moment. Her rest seemed peaceful, except for the little moans that escaped her. He could almost feel the anguish in them. At least she was safe. He tiptoed back to the door.

« Arthur… »

The whisper stopped him, on hand on the knob. He turned slowly half hoping she was still asleep. Her green eyes were fixed on him. She was very much awake, and even more surprised to have him in her bedroom.

« Go back to sleep.

-- What are you doing here?

-- I heard a noise.

-- Lying is not one of your talents. Why are you here? »

He gave in, and approached her bad. She pushed away, giving him room to sit. He leaned against the head-pole, studying her tired face silently. Finally, he stood up again.

« Arthur. »

She called him back.
« You're coming to check on me in the middle of the night. At least tell me why.

-- Never mind. Go back to sleep. »

This time, he retreated to his room. He was shaking, and didn't even know why. He renounced going back to bed, and sat at his desk. He didn't look up when the door opened. Morgana entered his room without a word. He tried to ignore her walking to his bed and sit there. Sure enough, her graceful moves caught enough of his attention to annoy him. He kept reading at the border reports while she fixed her gaze on him. Stubborn, he refused to acknowledge her presence. Where was Ealdor again? Shivering, she slipped into the sheets, and drew his blanket up, curling on the cushions.

« I'm not sure my father would appreciate finding you cosily installed in my bed.

-- Uther would not appreciate you sneaking into my room at night either. »

He finally renounced pretending working, and glanced toward her.

« I wanted to be sure you were okay.

-- Why? »

He should have known a half-truth would not help him get rid of her. Arthur changed his tactic and approached the bed. He pushed the sheets away and climbed in. Hopefully, this would chase her.

« Do you mind? This is my bed, after all. »

Morgana stiffened a little, and grabbed a pillow, holding it tight against her. To his satisfaction, her breath was not so even now. He lied on his side, and just looked at her, saying nothing. Silence was the best definition he could give their relationship anyway.

Her eyes had widened a bit. He liked the idea of troubling her. She never had given any indication he could. Arthur smiled at her discomfort, and leaned a little closer. She was watching his every move. He wondered if that glow in her fascinating eyes was curiosity, or interest. He wished she say something arch, pushed him away or slapped him, before his game backfired. He was only human after all. Her cheeks were flushed now, and she was nibbling her lower lip, bringing his attention to her mouth. Bad, bad idea… Arthur gently took her shielding pillow from her, and slid it behind her head. Her gaze caressing his face had him hesitate. She had the most beautiful eyes… Her whisper made his stomach (and lower parts) clenched. She never said his name like this before; like she liked the sound of it on her lips.

Appalled, he backed off. Morgana curled against him, missing his warm.

« Tell me why you came… »

So much for distracting her. He was the one troubled now, and very aware of the sweet female body nestled to his. He pressed her hand in his. « I had a nightmare. »

She didn't laugh. « Tell me. »

Her scent around him was comforting. He relaxed a bit, bringing their entwined across his chest.

« I was wounded; you healed me and afterward you told me you could not come home with me because you'd die. »

Arthur retained her when she tried to escape his embrace. Her body was rigid by his side. He turned his head, and deciphered panic in her beautiful eyes. He forced her back into his arms, whispering into her hair. She jostled, but he hold tight until she gave in.

« I don't want to hurt you.

-- You won't. My pride, maybe, now and then…

-- Your pride is oversized anyway. You need it deflated from time to time so you fit into that shiny armour of yours.

-- Merlin' got a lot to do for it to shine. »

She frowned, and pocked at his chest.

« You let him be, you hear me? You're bullying him around, and he still thinks the world of you, which I really don't…

-- You like him. »

The hint of jealousy in his voice displeased him, until she smiled. Then it deeply annoyed him.

« He's such a sweet-heart.

-- Is that right… And what am I, a frog?

-- Oh, I think I can come up with a word of two… » (clodpole… ;)

Arthur liked less and less the way their conversation was going. He crossed his arms behind his hear, ignoring her giggling. She bent over him, so her silken black locks flew on his own pillow. He closed his eyes briefly and sighed. Had she been a cat, she would have purred. She kissed his cheek, and nestled her head on his chest again.

« You're a good man, Arthur.

-- Thanks, I guess.

-- Stop that!

-- Stop what?

-- Pretending.

-- Pretending what?

-- That you don't care.

-- I do care, Morgana. » A lot more than I should.

She listened to the beating of his heart for a while. He was completely at ease with her there, and for once, he wanted to try honesty.

« Can I ask you a question?

-- If you ask about Gwen now, I kill you.

-- Gwen? Why would I ask about her? I want to know about your powers. »

Morgana straightened, startled. He pulled her back against him.

« Are you really able to heal wounds?

-- Maybe I will. But for now, all I can do is set my room on fire, and blow out the windows.

-- And predict doom on me.

-- That's because you annoy me beyond reason. Fortunately, Merlin…

-- And we're back at Merlin again… »

She laughed at his groan. He felt like an idiot, holding (finally) this adorable beautiful endearing bewitching woman into his arms, and brooding about her fancying his servant. He shifted so he had the upper hand again, one elbow bent so he could rest his head only inches from hers; he loved the way her bright eyes darkened a little. Their bodies brushed when she took a short breath.

« Now what does dear Merlin is going to think when he'll find you here in the morning? »

Her smile made it hard for breathing. Or was it her hand playing on his fore-arm? His question backfired.

« I should go then, and avoid an awfully awkward situation, shouldn't I? »

First, he didn't move. He didn't want her to go. But it had to be her choice. Always were. Arthur turned away to lie on his back again. Morgana stood up, arranging the sheets. He closed his eyes, hiding his deception, his mask of indifference shifting back into place. A wave of cold air hit him before he heard the door closed. God, he really hated losing.