XI

Morgana woke up in her bed her head heavy and pounding. Her body felt deliciously sore. She stretched then nestled against the strong body beside her for warmth. Arthur groaned and closed his arms around her. He buried his face in her neck to press small kisses on her throat. Morgana opened her eyes at once. Arthur. In her bed. Very much naked. Oh God.

He sensed her change of mood even before she pulled away.

"Arthur, what… Did we?... How…"

"You don't really want me to answer that, do you?"

She remembered. She remembered kissing him back in the ball-room and fumbling with his tie in the elevator. She remembered they christened the wall without waiting for the door to close, her legs around his waist, his hands tangled in her hair, ravishing her, devouring her mouth when she fall apart. And a second time, just as hungry and fast, on the bed. She remembered at some point desire replaced lust and long slow arousing caresses until she lost ground and took him with her. A third, fourth time? Oh God no... She draped herself in the sheet, unable to look at him in the eyes.

"We had too much to drink."

The blue eyes fixed on her narrowed. He got up to gather his clothes and dressed quickly.

"You certainly had."

"Arthur…"

The door banged behind him. Morgana pulled a pillow over her face. Gwen entered the room shortly afterward.

"Hey, is it safe?"

"Gwen, what did I do?"

"Tell me I don't have to start with bees and flowers…"

Morgana moaned in her pillow.

"Morgana, that's fine… You're both single, he couldn't take his eyes of you from the beginning…"

"It's not fine! I don't even like the guy! My sister slept with his father! And…"

Gwen was picking up the empty little foiled packages, smiling.

"You're not Morgause and Arthur is not Uther. Now get up and grab a shower. Brunch starts in 20 minutes."

"I'm not going."

"Yes you are. God, tell me you didn't try my bed too!"

Morgana gave a little cry and hurried to hide in the bathroom.

The shower helped with the head-ache but not with the shame.

"How do you know I was with Arthur, anyway?"

"Well, he just told us…"

Us? Oh no…

"Plus, you were kissing in the middle of the ball-room and you both disappeared minutes later…"

Yeah, she got that one.

"And he opened the door when I came to pick-up a change of clothes."

"What!"

"It was about 3 or 4 in the morning. Freya had me knock first. Arthur came answer the door."

Morgana pulled her hair-back in a ponytail.

"Freya?"

"Yes, I share her room. This one was rather… Crowded."

Morgana sat on the bed, feeling even crappier than before.

"I said I was drunk."

Gwen turned to her.

"That's low. Especially given he spent the night."

"I won't be able to face him."

"Of course you will. And Merlin's heavy jokes to go with it. Let's go I'm famished and you need something to settle your stomach."

Merlin didn't joke. They waited on line to be seated and only Lance and Freya were talking about the movies they were going to see in the afternoon. Gwen was glancing from Arthur sombre figure to Morgana, wondering if she was better to leave it alone, or to push. Morgana kept her eyes on the floor, while Arthur was scanning the room. Uther was already seated alone at a small table.

"I will spend the day with my father."

He extracted himself from Merlin's arm-check and entered the room swiftly.

"Arthur wait…"

If she had look at him in the eye, maybe he would have stopped. But she was avoiding his gaze, so he didn't.

"What Morgana? We had an itch, we scratched it. You were incredible honey, I promise. But it's daylight now and we're both sober. No hard feeling, okay?"

"Arthur James Pendragon I thought I taught you better manners than that."

"Mom?"

Morgana and Arthur turned to a slender woman, nearly her height, and as blond as Arthur. She had given her son her graceful face and her blue eyes. But at the moment, her delicate mouth was a thin line and she was frowning. She accepted Arthur's embrace nonetheless, her expression softening just a little when he closed his arms around her. She let him go and glared at him immediately after.

"This is not a proper way to talk to a woman, especially if she welcomed you in her bed. I'm sorry Dear, Arthur takes a lot after his father before breakfast."

Morgana opened her mouth to speak, and found nothing to say. Igraine turned to her son again, frowning. Arthur grabbed Morgana's arm roughly and pulled her forward.

"Yes. Please, meet Morgana LeFay. Morgana, my mother Igraine."

She held her breath, bracing herself against the upcoming disdain. He had done that on purpose, to give her surname. Igraine didn't flinch and smiled sweetly at Morgana.

"Very nice to meet you, Morgana. I'm sorry to say that apparently, my son is a bit obtuse this morning."

He was still holding her arm. Waking up with her in the morning was so right, so perfect. Then she had pushed away, discarding him like a toy. And yet, he craved for her, for her touch and her kisses, for the clouds in her eyes before she melted in his arms.

"Arthur, apologize, I'm waiting."

He had to do something. He had to chose, hold her or let her go. Cupping her cheek gently, he kissed her softly on the lips. He could not force her to want him too, to love him back.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean that."

Then he let her go.