A/N: Again, sorry for the eons that have passed since the last chapter I wrote. I really have no real excuse, a few lame ones like grade 12 and graduating and all and deciding my future, but nothing big. This chapter is a little more…intense than usual but hopefully still just as amusing. Although if you laugh during the intense bit than either you're a little bit heartless, or I fail as an intense/serious writer. Which is ok, I'd rather be funny anyway.
"Morgana?" A confused query.
"Morgana?" A shocked gasp.
"Mor…gana?" Bewildered disbelief.
"Morgana!" Love-struck awe.
"Morgana…" A soft, delicate sigh.
"Morgana?!" Annoyance.
"M..or…g..ana…" Raucous laughter.
"MORGANA?!!" Pure, unadulterated shock. Swiftly cumulating anger.
Morgana was, for all intents and purposes, absolutely stumped. And to be perfectly clear, this did not happen often. In fact, she would later claim that it never happened at all. Wrote love letters to all the occupants of the castle? Why of course she did, it was all part of her master plan. But for the time being, she was summarily unenlightened and unequivocally stumped. What the hell had Arthur done? And of course she knew instinctively that it was Arthur. Who else was holding a grudge against her for no apparent reason? Ok, well maybe he had a reason. And maybe it was apparent. But still, grudges were so juvenile. Oh right, this was Arthur. The two were practically interchangeable. Put one in the others place and no one would know the difference.
Catching herself, she leapt off the endless train ride of 'Arthur's faults' and focused again on her current predicament. Which was Arthur's fault because Arthur was such a…no, she needed to focus.
A gentle hand landing on her shoulder and the softly whispered "Morgana…" caused her leap three feet in the air and spin around to face her 'attacker'.
"What the…Lord Earlswood?" She questioned, surprised, and slightly creeped out at the almost tender expression on his usually stony, formidable, face.
"Morgana." He replied, bowing his head slightly.
Morgana fought back the sudden impulse to shudder at the way his voice seemed to, to, caress her name. As a sudden spark of pure lust trickled through his gaze, she was unable to suppress the disgusted shudder it provoked. He was old. Lord Earlswood, however, seemed to take this as an expression of interest. His eyes glinted eerily in the light as a lewd smile wormed its way across his face.
"Morgana," he said again, tongue almost flicking out as if to taste her name upon the air. "I was amazed and, I admit, somewhat surprised, this morning when I found your letter under the door."
"My letter?" Confusion flickered across her face. What letter? What had Arthur done?
"You know," he smirked and leaned in closer, "the one where you confessed your love for me?"
"My…WHAT?!" She half-shrieked, but due to her 'courtly manners', managed to turn it into s very fervent exclamation of…surprise.
"Jimmy," Lord Earlswood quoted, "I love you. Morgana."
At that she almost laughed. Wow. Arthur's poetry lessons had really paid off.
"Lord Earlswood," she said calmly, "I didn't write that…"
"Sssh," he placed a finger upon her lips, "it's ok. I know it must have been hard to admit it. But you have. So let's skip the 'I am a fair maiden, I have virtue and you have to chase me' crap."
Morgana practically shoved his hand away (as politely as possible) and stepped back.
"I don't know what you're talking about," she took a few more steps and panicked as her back hit a wall.
"Oh come now child," he admonished, "don't tell me you're playing with an old man's heart?"
"I'm not, I didn't…look," she injected some aggression into her voice, "I. do. Not. Know. What. You. Are. Talking. About," she paused after each word for maximum impact. "So if you don't mind, I'm going to leave." As she began to move, she suddenly realized what a precarious situation she was in. She was backed up against a wall, Lord Earlswood was only three feet away, and he was eerily reminiscent of a hungry wolf staring down its prey. Morgana's eyes widened considerably and flickered around the room, searching desperately for an escape of some kind. None was forthcoming. Lord Earlswood moved closer and Morgana stifled a gasp. No need to lead him on, he seemed to be getting some kind of perverse enjoyment from her discomfort. Suddenly, she had an idea. What if she did lead him on? He'd lower his guard and then when he was distracted she could escape. But how to do it? Mentally forcing herself to cease trying to become one with the wall, she batted her eyelashes in the way she knew was teasingly flirtatious and angled her head down, flicking her eyes up to observe Earlswood's face. He looked ravenous. Gulping at the thought of being his proverbial juicy steak she shuffled forward a tad and peered at him again. "Ah," Lord Earlswood grinned, "so you were playing. Naughty, naughty," he waved his finger in the air. As he bent closer she took the presented opportunity, kneed him viciously in the groin and attempt to sprint away. She cursed as her dress impeded her movement and shrieked as Lord Earlswood grabbed her wrist from behind. She slapped his hand repeatedly as she tried to get away, but it was to no avail. The grip he had on her wrist was firm and bruising. He tugged forcefully and she fell to the ground. Just when she thought all was lost she heard the very familiar, and usually irritating, sounds of Arthur's talking. Hope flared within her and she screeched his name while Lord Earlswood cursed and tried to shut her up. Luckily for her, and perhaps not so luckily for Earlswood, Arthur's hearing was almost ninja-like on that fateful day. Hearing her panicked voice, Arthur abandoned all pratish qualities and became the 'person people prayed he would eventually completely morph into, instead of about zero-point-one percent of the time'. In any case, he was this person now. He raced into the room and quickly appraised the situation. Seeing Arthur, Lord Earlswood cursed and released Morgana immediately, before turning and fleeing in the opposite direction. Arthur momentarily paused, unsure whether to chase him or see to Morgana. Given his propensity for hunting and chasing, he was somewhat surprised when he turned around and headed towards Morgana, reasoning as he did so, that Lord Earlwood would not get far.
"Are you alright?" he questioned, concern colouring his voice.
Morgana didn't answer. Instead she ignored his proffered hand and stiffly got to her feet. When she turned to face him he was shocked at the level of intensity of her gaze. Before he had time to even finish thinking that thought, she lifted her hand and smacked him across the face. Fighting the urge to rub his cheek, and refusing to acknowledge how much it hurt, Arthur actually had the audacity to look shocked. Morgana slapped him again.
"How dare you," she began shakily, "How. Dare. You."
Oh. Realization dawned on Arthur. It was the letters.
"Oh," he said intelligently, "Morgana, I…"
"You what?" she demanded venomously, "you thought it would be funny to write a love letter to a perverted old man?"
"I, well…" Arthur trailed off, "technically I didn't write them. It was Merlin."
At Morgana's raised eyebrow and twitching hand he quickly changed tack, "okay so it was my idea but it, it…it wasn't just him you know. We wrote letters to everyone in the castle." At Morgana's shocked and dangerous look Arthur realized that he'd just dug himself an even bigger hole. Oops.
"Ah, what I mean to say…" he back-pedalled, "is that I'll tell everyone it was a joke and that you didn't write them."
When she didn't look satisfied he added, "and I'll take full credit since it was my dare. Okay?"
Morgana nodded stiffly and then turned around and stalked out of the room.
Behind her Arthur rubbed his cheek sheepishly. Man, but she could slap.
Arthur fidgeted. Urther glared at him. Arthur looked away. Morgana glared at him. Arthur looked down. The floor seemed to be glaring at him. Or maybe it was just a residual feeling from the fact that he could sense Morgana's eyes boring holes into his head. Not to mention Uther's. Arthur began to raise his hand to call Merlin over and then hesitated; Merlin was glaring at him. Come to think of it, a lot of people were glaring at him. He suddenly felt defensive. What was it, glare at the crown prince day? And how did they all know anyway? He had yet to make the public announcement. Not about 'glare at the crown prince day', about the letter thing. Now that he thought about it though, they need more crown prince centred days…maybe not a 'glare at the crown prince' day, but something like a…'worship the crown prince' day. Yeah, that sounded good. He suddenly felt like someone was very intensely trying to burn his intestines with their eyes. It was Morgana; of course, she seemed to realize his thoughts were happily gallivanting off into the lovingly cultivated 'crown prince' field of daisies. Jerked back into reality, he realized that all eyes were on him. His heart skipped a beat. Not that he was afraid of public speaking, the opposite actually. He loved public speaking. There was just something about having all the attention focused upon him, all those people staring at him with adoration, hanging off of his every word…or in some cases, he admitted grudgingly, looking like they wanted to rip his entrails out with their bare hands. He liked to think that those particularly disturbed individuals were the minority. Not today however. He honestly couldn't find a single face that didn't seem to be broadcasting that very same wish. He briefly wondered why. Okay, so he'd dared Merlin to write love letters from Morgana to every single one of them, but still, couldn't they take a joke? Besides, they were only love letters. Not a big deal. He himself received many a day. And okay, maybe one of them caused Morgana to be very nearly molested by a perverted old man, but it hadn't happened. He'd saved her in fact. She should be grateful. Any besides, no one besides himself and Morgana knew of that fact, and maybe Gwen, and possibly Merlin. He was pretty sure, however, that no one else knew. So why were they all glaring at him? Surely they didn't take the letters seriously…hang on; they didn't even really know the letters were fake yet. He still hadn't told them, so how did they…?
He stopped mid-thought as Uther cleared his throat and looked pointedly at him. Oh right, he was supposed to be apologizing. Never mind the fact that this very apology broke one of the sacred 'truth and dare' rules: don't let outsiders in on the game. Still, he had promised Morgana, if only to prevent her from very literally carving his organs out with the nearest sharp implement. Or the nearest blunt one. He momentarily considered just how painful that would be.
Uther cleared his throat again.
Oh, right. Organ-protection time.
"Father," he began respectfully, "lords and ladies, I stand here tonight with an apology I wish to impart along with my deepest regrets."
Some of the crowd began to look impressed with his sincerity and a little less like they desired his innards for supper. A few of their mouths dropped open in shock. Wait. Arthur had a brain?!
"It was I who wrote and delivered the love letters, not Morgana."
There was very little surprise amongst the crowd. Arthur paused briefly to ponder how gossip seemed to spread like a famine and then winced; he definitely didn't need a reminder about famine.
"I wish to express my shame and regret at my actions, and hope that you will judge me appropriately and find it permissible to forgive me."
Morgana inwardly sighed at his words. Of course they would forgive him. Heck, she would forgive him. He was just too damn charming, especially when he spoke like that. And Arthur was nothing if not a convincing actor. At least he hadn't shifted any of the blame onto Merlin.
Arthur bowed his head slightly and spread his palms wide, "I leave my punishment in your capable hands. May you judge justly and accord me no privilege."
Morgana could've sworn she saw several people swoon. Damn, he was good.
"Thank you Arthur," Uther stepped in and addressed them, "what is your decision?"
"Let him off," someone suggested, "he won't do it again."
"Yeah, he's learnt his lesson."
The crowd murmured their agreement and Uther acquiesced, "very well. Arthur will receive no punishment. Now all, please, return to the feast." He moved back to his seat near Arthur and gave him a disgruntled look. He then glanced apologetically at Morgana who shrugged. She honestly hadn't expected Arthur to be punished; she just wanted her name cleared. Besides, she would have her own revenge.
