Rating: M for language and content.
Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended; these characters belong to Merlin and the BBC, I own nothing.
Pairing: Morgana/Arthur
Set early in the Merlin Universe.
I know these two are related, but some love stories are bigger than the people in them.
If this offends you, please give it a miss.
Picks up right after Chapter 1.
Enjoy.
For P.
WS
Merlin found him hours later with his head still on the table.
He couldn't for the life of him stop reliving those crucial five seconds of complete idiocy that lead to her storming off.
He could still taste her on his lips.
"Are you alright, Sire?"
"Do I look alright to you, Merlin?"
"Ehm, maybe not."
"Exactly. I am not alright. And where have you been?"
"Ehm, I … what happened?"
"Well, let me tell you," Arthur said, finally rose from the chair. "I have done something so unbelievably stupid and then managed to top that stupid with a little bit of more stupid. Quite frankly, I can't even believe it myself."
"So unlike you …"
"Shut up, Merlin."
"Anything I can help with?"
"No. Definitely not," he said and wondered how Morgana could possibly think of Merlin as cute.
He strode across the hall, passing the core of the apple on the way. Gave it a good kick. Watched it explode into millions of pieces.
Damn her all over again.
WS
The days that followed were hell thanks to her. She was stirring the cauldron of despair, taking pleasure in his suffering.
She went out of her way to a.) ignore him and b.) flirt outrageously with Merlin.
It had to stop.
He'd have to make her stop before it drove him insane.
Problem was, she never seemed to be on her own anymore and as the days went on he grew more and more impatient, moody and desperate.
When he caught himself hiding in an alcove ready to pounce on her, he knew he'd reached a new low, but it didn't prevent him from seeing his plan through. He shook his head at himself.
What had happened to him?
One kiss and he'd lost it?
Really?
When he heard her footsteps his heart was beating out of his chest.
In one swift movement he'd grabbed her and pulled her into the narrow space with him.
She let out a girly scream and he quickly covered her mouth.
When she realized what was going on, she looked like she was going to scratch his eyes out.
"Arthur!" "Morgana!" They said at the same time. A breathless pause followed.
"What on earth do you think you're doing?" She hissed.
"Hands off Merlin," he told her. It wasn't at all what he wanted to say, but it was the first thing that came out.
"What? Have you lost your mind? You don't tell me what to do."
"Morgana. I'm sorry," he babbled.
"Yes, I know, you've already made that perfectly clear," she whispered, her anger burning red hot, "Well, I'm not, sorry, Arthur. So there."
"Come with me," he said, fighting to get control of the situation.
"What?"
"Come with me. We're going for a ride," he said and grabbed her wrist a bit tighter.
"I am not going anywhere with you," she answered back and he released her.
"I need to speak with you, Morgana."
"You are already speaking with me."
"I can't speak to you properly here in case I end up screaming," he said between clenched teeth, "That's why you are coming with me. Now!" He pulled her by the wrist down the corridor, dragged her all the way to the stables. Asked for their horses to be made ready.
"I can saddle my own horse," she spat and five minutes later she took off like a woman possessed.
"Morgana, slow down. Do you have a death wish?" He shouted, "Where are you even going?"
"Does it matter?" she yelled back, and disappeared into the forest.
He finally caught up with her a good 15 minutes later. She had stopped at a clearing.
"What do you want from me, Arthur?"
He got off his horse, winced and cracked his neck back into the right position. "Ouch. You always were the better rider," he remarked and stumbled towards her.
"And don't you forget it."
"Get off," he asked of her.
"No."
"Come on, Morgana, get off. Talk to me."
"So you can apologize again for kissing me?"
"I'm sorry I said I was sorry," he exclaimed, holding out his arms, "But I didn't … I was shocked."
"Shocked?"
"Shocked, yes, why is that so hard to believe?" he asked and she looked at him like she'd never seen him before.
"Come on, Arthur, like you had never entertained that thought," she smiled bitterly.
"Fine, I admit it. But when it happened I was … surprised."
"Surprised? Surprised about what?"
"Surprised about the way it made me feel, damn it. Now get off the horse."
She dropped the reigns and jumped onto solid ground.
"Are you sorry?" she asked him.
He shook his head.
"No. I'd kiss you a million times over. It's all I can think about. You and that damn apple. I don't think I can ever eat another apple without thinking about you," he smiled.
"I don't think I can eat at that table again without thinking about you," she said and allowed the smile that was gently tugging on the corners of her mouth.
"Well, it'll certainly make future banquets a lot more entertaining."
She looked at her hands and laughed softly.
"Morgana …" he started. But Morgana what?
"What do you want from me, Arthur?" she asked softly. "Why are we here?"
"I … I want everything from you, Morgana. But that means that I am also wanting to defy every rule in the book. There has always been a line …"
"Yes, and then we crossed it," she said.
He took a couple of steps towards her, got close enough to touch her, but stopped himself.
Why do you have to be so damn lovely, he thought.
"I can't stop thinking about you," he whispered, his eyes caressed her face, her mouth.
"I can't stop thinking about you either," she confessed, her eyes all over him, and just like that he no longer cared.
He grabbed her by the neck and pulled her towards him. He kissed her hungrily, her little moans making him hotter and hotter.
"I want you," he mumbled against her lips.
She was breathing heavily.
"I want you," she replied, and two seconds later they were lying in the soft, high grass. He thought his head was going to explode.
His hands were getting bolder, exploring her curves, and although they were on solid ground it certainly didn't feel like it.
He kissed her neck.
"Arthur," she whispered; the way she said it sent shockwaves through his body.
"What?" he asked, dragged himself away from her soft skin, watched her open her eyes, dark pupils revealing lightest green.
"Nothing. Don't stop," she said, almost embarrassed.
"I won't. Not a chance. Although I haven't exactly imagined doing this here."
"Oh?" she smiled, "And how have you imagined it? Certainly not under your father's roof; with a girl you think of as a sister," she chuckled wickedly, and he was quick to pinch her.
"Shut up, Morgana."
"Kinky, Arthur," she whispered, leant up and bit his bottom lip.
"You're too much," he chuckled.
"Sleeping with the King's ward; is that treason I wonder," she contemplated.
"We can both go to hell together for all I care," he decided, "Because you're guilty, too, for seducing the future King."
"I have done no such thing," she said, fake outrage gave her that twinkle in her eye that drove him mad.
"You're not so innocent, Morgana. You have played this game for months. Your eyes give you away. At first I thought you were looking at me with severe hatred, but then I realized that you are simply insanely attracted to me."
She pinched him between the ribs. "You're such a cocky little shit, Arthur. I wish I fancied mature men."
"Aha. So you do admit that you fancy me."
"I could never fancy anybody so utterly obnoxious, Arthur Pendragon," she told him, ran her hands through his hair, pulled him closer and kissed him hard.
"Morgana, I swear I am going to rip your clothes off," he warned, a firm hand tracing down her body, taking in her hips, the curve of her ass.
"Please, don't. How would I explain that?" she breathed in his ear, "But you are welcome to take it all off. Unless you don't know how," she teased and sat up quickly.
He had to catch his breath.
Looked up at the sky.
Twilight.
Looked at her.
Her hair was a mess, her pale cheeks flushed, her delicious mouth swollen.
He would have promised her anything.
I'm sorry I didn't love you sooner.
I'm sorry I never told you that you are beautiful.
Watched her watching him.
"Come here," she said and reached for his hand, "You have to undo me carefully here," she started to explain.
"I know how to get you out of the damn dress," he hissed, got up and knelt behind her quickly.
He had to concentrate so hard to keep his fingers from shaking.
He couldn't resist her neck. Had to kiss it, brush away her dark locks and kiss it. Found her ear, "I know what to do, Morgana, do you?"
It was a question disguised in a tease, but he was deadly serious.
Had she been here before, had she done this? And if so with whom? And how had it gone unnoticed?
She never answered him, just giggled.
"Oh yes, I remember, you don't kiss and tell," he mumbled, unlaced the dress, revealing her naked back.
Touched her there with his fingertips.
Watched her shiver.
Then continued.
Planted gentle kisses on her shoulders, behind her ear.
"You want this?" he asked, and she turned around to him, holding her dress up with just one hand.
"Arthur, you think too much."
He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.
"I know. And you don't think enough."
"And we meet in the middle. Come on now; I'll show you mine if you show me yours," she winked at him.
Damn you, Morgana.
He'd never undressed more quickly.
Pulled her into a tight embrace, down into the grass. His head was spinning, his heart was going crazy.
He kissed her hard, possessively. "I'm going to kill whoever has seen you like this," he mumbled between kisses that were getting so hot they were scorching his lips.
"You wouldn't kill your own servant, Arthur, would you?" she teased, but he couldn't take it. Not now, not like this.
Pinned her down underneath him, held her two wrists above her head with one of his hands.
"You're mine, Morgana."
"Ownership, Arthur?" she asked, and he looked into her eyes.
You belong with me, he thought. "I think we need to stop talking," he suggested.
"Shame. I was just about to tell you what I like," she pouted.
"How about I work it out by myself?" he suggested, his mouth on her neck, one hand on her breast.
He kissed across her collarbone and down until he could take her nipple into his mouth. He gently sucked on it, and she wiggled impatiently.
"Hold still," he demanded, but she couldn't.
He continued, his hand travelled down and down, across her stomach and between her legs.
She gasped.
He thought that maybe in another life the way he was touching her now may have embarrassed him, but not now, not here. The joke was over, and he sensed that she knew it, too; felt the change in her body, that little bit of surrender one breath at a time.
He felt his own lust burn into longing.
"Morgana," he whispered for no other reason but to say her name.
"Arthur, please, I want to touch you."
He watched her open her eyes. He let go of her hands and they firmly gripped his strong shoulders, caressed his naked chest. There was no hesitation at all and he hated that she knew what she was doing. Damn it, Morgana, who was it, he thought and felt the most irrational desire to make her his, to erase every memory of every man before him.
Kissed her endlessly, planted kisses all the way down her body, put his mouth between her legs.
"No, Arthur, no," she protested quietly, half-heartedly, her hands in his hair.
"Yes, yes," he replied, because there was no way in hell he wasn't doing this to her.
He held her firmly by the hips, continued his sweet torture.
Shallow breaths were interrupted only by incoherent nonsense.
He went slowly, wanting to learn her, memorize her; know her in this way.
When she whispered his name he thought it would send him stir crazy.
"Arthur. Arthur. Yes."
He felt her come, all her muscles tensing up, the unmistakeable rapture washing over her. Then she lay still, completely motionless except for her heavy breathing.
He kissed her mouth. Hunger and satisfaction mixed in a sensation that tasted like them.
When she finally opened her eyes to look at him he wanted to cry a little bit.
"I hate you," she whispered, and he had to laugh.
"Excuse me? I make you come and now you hate me? A simply thank you would suffice, my lady."
She looked at him in a way she'd never looked at him before.
"What? No man has ever made you come?" he asked, not even trying to wipe the cocky grin off his face.
She tried so, so hard not to smile, failed miserable, "Damn you, Arthur," she giggled and the secret was out, "Before this I still had hope that you'd be a terrible lover as well as utterly obnoxious, but now I am not sure I'll ever give you up willingly."
"Good," he said and kissed her quickly.
Much like her eyes earlier, her hands were now all over him. He could feel the blood rushing through his ears. When she took his cock in her hand and started stroking him, he had trouble comprehending what was happening.
Him and Morgana.
Always knew it would happen.
Had been right here in his wildest fantasies a million times.
"Arthur."
Snapped out of it, looked into sparkling green eyes.
"I want to sleep with you."
He wondered if she'd ever said this to anyone else, but couldn't even go there in his head.
Pushed into her, tried to set a steady pace, but it was hopeless. He was way too excited to take control. Looked at her face and nearly lost it: her eyes shut, her mouth slightly open. Felt her hard nipples brushing against his chest as he thrust into her.
His brain barely registered when she said his name.
"Look at me," she demanded, but he couldn't keep his eyes open.
"Arthur, look at me," she said again, and when he did he was a dead man. He came not three seconds later, the moment unbearably intimate.
Collapsed on top of her, and she didn't complain, but allowed him to squash her until he rolled off and onto his back.
She cuddled up against him, her hair tickled his arm, his shoulder, his chest.
Touched her naked skin and felt her get goose bumps immediately.
"If you tell me you're sorry I am going to kill you," she sniggered.
"I'm only sorry we didn't do it on the table."
"Well, it's not too late. If you weren't such a lousy rider we could probably have a quick one before supper. Imagine your father's face if he walked in on us," she chuckled.
"That is not even funny, Morgana."
"You know it is."
"Is not."
"Is too."
"Shut up, Morgana," he said, rolled back on top of her, covered her mouth with his hand and then took it away to kiss her.
She kissed him back, until he could feel the smile on her lips.
"What?"
"Arthur, I … nothing."
He looked into her eyes and she let him.
Brushed a stray hair from her beautiful face.
"Say it," he demanded, but she looked at him like she didn't know what he was talking about.
"Come on, spill it," he asked of her again, but she shook her head.
"You can sleep with me, but you can't say it?" he asked.
"I don't think we should go there, Arthur," she warned.
"We already went there, Morgana," he laughed and poked her between the ribs, then started tickling her mercilessly.
She wiggled, laughed until she had tears in her eyes, tried desperately to get away from him, to stop him, but he wouldn't listen. Finally managed to roll on top of him and silenced him with a lingering kiss.
"Fine, I'll go there," she said, traced his lips with her index finger, "I hate you."
"Is that so?"
"Yes."
"Try again," he asked and she wrinkled her cute nose, bit her lip.
"I'm I love with you, damn you!"