Author's Note: Thank you to all those who gave me the wonderful reviews I got for my last chapter. It was wonderful recieving so much positive feedback on my first venture into this cannin. This is my last chapter for this story. But I might just be inspired to write more Armor in the near future I always did love this pairing.
He didn't hear her when she came, lost in his thoughts, until her bell like voice broke him out of the prison that became his mind.
"I heard... about Gwen and Lancelot... I'm sorry." Arthur kept his back on her.
His small red tent yards away from where the battle was supposed to take place the next day. He stood in the back next to where his flag was hung; a golden dragon on a bright red border. Around the tent a few empty wooden chairs sat around a round large table on the table there was a giant map in the middle, small figurines had been stragetically plotted onto the map. A small fire warmed the tent up quite nice against the cold January night and a small lantern was hung in the middle of tent.
When he sighed and turned around he sat in his chair almost collapsing on it. She noticed how aged he looked. No longer the cocky charming young prince who easily threw quick boyish grins. Neigher was he the hardened warrior. Arthur was now a wise middle-aged king. Time had caught up to him. His back was crocked. His hands calloused. His blue eyes sunken in and wrinkles at the corners of his eyelids. His hair contained traces of silver in in his beard. But he was still handesome.
"Damn him and her! Damn Mordred. Damn it all to hell." Arthur said bitterly of his ex wife, her lover and his former best friend, and of the son Morgana and him shared. Morgan had named Mordred after the Druid boy she cared for so many years ago.
"I know he hurt you. But don't talk bad about my son. Please Arthur." Arthur dared to look up at Morgana, she was till so beautiful. Her face smooth with no blemishes or wrinkles to speak of against her creamy white skin. Her dark hair had no strand of gray unlike Gweneveire. He wondered absentmindly if fairies age slower than mere mortals, or does Morgan mean to curse him, making him look opon her beauty but never being able to get close to it.
Arthur approached her slowly, his face a mizzing swirl of anger, sadness and confusion. "Have you forgotten or ignored the fact that Mordred is our son? Do you think I don't love him? My only child! The only thing I have that's apart of you. I love him, I love Mordred so much it kills me inside! What I have to do kills me! Go into battle against my only son. My only nephew. Oh my God. I'm exhausted Morgana I lived too long with too much pain. I'm too old and tired to be the Great King Arthur and fight for Camelot. I welcome this battlle and I welcome Mordred to kill me."
"You must not say such things." Because Morgana doesn't know how to react to an Arthur like this. Morgan is surprised that she's not absolutly gleeful about the truely broken look on Arthur's face. Morgan had given up on the dream about seeing the day the legendry king of Camelot would look so utterly defeated. Morgana reached a pale dainty hand out to comfort him but Arthur tensed under her touch and jumped away from it.
"If you had just told me when he was born. I would have summoned you both to Camelot. You both would have lived in the castle with me. I would have brought him up as my heir. And I would have raised him better then Uther raised me more loving, more compassionate, more pacient." Arthur had a stange distant sort of smile on his face. With a queer scense of pride he added this about his only son. "He is a smart boy, a handsome boy. Who has your green eyes and raven hair. He reminds me so much of you. When he first came to Camelot I was the happiest I been in a long time becase he reminded me so much of you. I was going to name him my successor before he-" His words cut aburtly and were lodged in his throat. Athur cleared his voice before continuing, "I could have taught him many things. How to hold a sword. How to fight. How to talk to a girl. But you denied me of that right! You raised him to be wicked and now all he is consumed by plots of my demise." Arthur slid back into his chair holding his head in his hands.
"Arthur try and understand, I thought you and Gweneviere would have scroned him. And I knew I could never be... motherly to him. Morgause said she would raise him for me and treat him as her own. It was without my knowledge what she did what she put into his head. If I had known I would have stopped it. You think it doesn't kill me?" Morgana said trying her best to defend herself agianst his scorn though she knew he had a right to hate her.
"You'll find a way. When Camelot, me and Morderd are all dead and gone. Morgan le Fey will find a way. Sure as day is day and night is night, you'll live another day to scheme and manipulate. You're like cat. You always find a way to land on your feet." Arthur tipped his golden goblet to her bitterly and drank from it.
"Yes. I do always land on my feet don't I? I'm always so good at landing on my God damn feet!" Morgan cried as she fell on her knees, "I'm tired of it Arthur! I got everything I ever wanted and I don't want to live anymore! What have I done?! What have I let myself become? Britan is left in war and chaos. I'm left utterly alone, and without a soul to keep me company after you're gone." Hot tears flooded her eyes and cascaded down her face. Morgana fell onto the red rug sobbing the hardest she's sobbed since she was a child and realized her father and mother were gone and weren't coming back. Arthur instantly regretted everything he said and rushed to his feet to take her in his arms.
"I don't want it anymore! What good is a crown on my head when you and Mordred are dead? If you or Mordred die then I want to die too!" Arthur lifted her head off the rug and stroked her long dark hair. "No! I want to die, I want to die..." Morgana repeated over and over again as she sobbed into his chest.
Arthur continued stroking her down her back while he struggeled to compose himself and be a man the strong man she needed, not cry and break down with her. "Shh. It wasn't your fault. You don't write destiney. It wasn't your fault Uther was mean and cruel toward you and your people. You didn't ask for those visions. And you didn't seduce and manipulate me to beget Mordred. That was my choice. And I wouldn't take it back. I only wish to change what happened afterwards. But that still wasn't your fault, it was Morgause. Morgana I love you. Please cease you tears."
Morgana looked up at him her eyes large green eyes brimming with unshed tears with a strangeled breath she held him by the neck. A kiss. A needy, passionate kiss. Like Morgana would never see him again. They broke away to breath. Arthur held her face into his large hands, "What you said before- Did you see it already in your visions? Tommorrow? Do I die?" Morgana found out that she couldn't lie to him this time. She wreched her head away and looked everywhere but his light blue eyes she slowly nodded. She heard Arthur take a strangeled breath he stared for a moment before he quietly nodded and did what he had to do so many other times before, accept his fate.
"Stay with me tonight. Please Morgana I need you tonight." Was this the same person who told her, 'Kings never beg' so long ago she wondered. But his stare intensified by a single lamp, outside it was already dark. They didn't have much time left. Arthur cupped her face gently in his hand she looked up at him still amazed that his eyes could appear so blue even in the darkness of the night. She agreed she didn't desire to be anywhere else tonight than here, with him.
All of Arthur's wants, needs, and questions that been haunting him all these years to be gone. Questions and what if's ceased to matter when he was allowed to hold Morgana again in his arms.
"I thought I would never have you again. I missed you so much. I loved you for so long." He confided in her. It's all ending. Everything is crashing down around him and he doesn't see the need for pretences any longer.
Then there's the closeness they been deprieved of so long. And they both wonder how they ever lived so long without each other. They were two halves to a whole. They thought alike and understood eachother better than anyone else yet they were so different. Arthur was masculine where she was femine, he was the extrovert while she was the introvert. They just fitted together.
Arthur shows her he isn't an old man that night when he takes her again and again. When they finally go to sleep Arthur holds Morgana closely inhaling her scent deeply wishing they had just one more night. But time stands still for no man and destiny doesn't change for one man, even if he is king. That morning when he wakes to find her gone. Arthur walks into battle that day ready to die. He wonders if he's just imaging that flash of long dark hair blowing in the breeze in the distance.