WiltingDaisies94: And now, a nice long slice of ArMor romance, because you've all earned it.

Chapter 21

Arthur inhaled the fresh evening air like a man too long suffocated, welcoming the breeze as it washed over his face. The seasons were changing and it was getting cooler, but tonight the chilly caress of the wind hardly touched his skin. It wouldn't have dared.

Perfectly content, Arthur gently squeezed the smaller hand he held within his own, incredibly grateful to be exactly where he was.

"Does something trouble your mind, Leon?" Morgana asked softly, starting at the sudden gesture.

Arthur shook his head, gazing fondly at her. "No," he replied languorously. "There is nothing in this world foolish enough to disturb my time with you."

"Now that," Morgana asserted playfully, "is a sure sign that something is out of sorts. Therefore, you had best have out with it, and with your mind thus at peace, you may continue to enjoy yourself."

Arthur smiled. He liked how simple the Lady Juliana made everything seem. But this - namely the battle he would ride off to tomorrow - was not the type of affair one troubled ladies with. "I think not," Arthur replied, "I would not spoil our evening with talk of it."

But something in his tone or expression betrayed him, and in a moment of striking perception Morgana asked, "Are you riding out with His Majesty tomorrow?"

Arthur was beginning to think Juliana could read his mind. "Yes, I am," he admitted. "There is an important venture to be made, and I have little choice but to go."

Morgana rolled her eyes. It was not so much the notion of battle that irritated her, but the thought that Leon would be taken away for gods only knew how long. "Men and their glory," she murmured disapprovingly. "The King must have dozens of knights available to ride out, for what does he require your services?"

The King grinned behind his mask and tilted his head to the side, looking warmly down at his companion. "Why Milady, I do believe you are worried about me."

Morgana scoffed her denial. "Certainly not, Milord," she answered, with a pompous toss of her head. "It is absolutely your decision to go charging into battle, needlessly or otherwise."

But Arthur was not fooled by the lady's remarks, and tried not to appear too flattered. "Well," he said, the irony not lost on him as he spoke, "I am afraid I must go. His Majesty can be quite insistent."

Morgana let out a breath. "Of course he can. He is, after all, the King."

Arthur took her other hand and halted their walk. "I make a promise to you, Milady," he said, feeling the need to reassure her. "I will come and meet you again the night I return from battle." Arthur held her gaze, watching every emotion flicker through her eyes. "I swear to you that I will arrive whole and unharmed and," he added with particular articulation, "with every intention of spending a peaceful evening entirely with you."

"But Milord, I am not ignorant with regards to a warrior's needs," Morgana protested. "It is likely you will be exhausted –"

"What to me is sleep," Arthur interrupted her, "when I might take time with the most beautiful and magnificent woman in the world?"

Morgana looked away. "You need not exaggerate for the sake of mollification," she said critically.

Arthur's heart thumped forcefully at her grave tone. "I exaggerate nothing," he insisted, willing her to look back at him. "Knowing what elegance and wit I have here to return to…" Arthur shook his head. "You make it impossible I should do otherwise than return from battle, crowned with victory."

Morgana searched his face, and satisfied with what she found in his expression, raised herself on her tiptoes to kiss Arthur softly on the cheek. "Please be safe, Milord," she murmured, a wish and an order.

The kiss was effortless, simple, affectionate, and Arthur relished the touch more than any other in his life. He imagined this to be the feeling Merlin spoke of when he recounted his love; warmth spread through Arthur at the brush of Morgana's lips.

He gently stroked her cheek, still trying to assure himself that the Lady Juliana was real. How could anyone be so enchanting? Her skin was soft, warm and welcoming under his touch, nothing like the cool, inactive embrace of his wife.

"Come," Arthur said, though he would willingly have stood there all evening, a hairsbreadth shy of the lady.

Morgana released one of Arthur's hands and barely tugged on the one she still held, continuing to walk. "Where are you taking me, Milord?" she asked.

"Someplace I love," he answered honestly. "I discovered it as a child, and it has always been a source of joy to me."

Morgana's eyebrows rose. "Then why do you bring me, Milord? I should not like to steal from you that which you in solitude treasure most."

"No," Arthur corrected. "Not steal. Share. Appreciate." He paused. "Even love, perhaps."

Morgana smiled in acceptance. "I thank you for that honor, Leon."

Arthur was embarrassed by her sentiments, and quickly moved on. "Come, it is just this way."

The two were well beyond the castle gardens now, and moving across the grounds. The stars in the sky seemed to glint their approval, and the calmness that pervaded the air lifted Arthur's spirit ever higher. Never mind the battles of tomorrow – tonight was more than enough. His grip on the lady's hand tightened as they headed up the sloping hills.

Morgana sighed indulgently. "Milord, I am capable of keeping my balance, I promise." She granted him a half smile. "I have met my fair share of crags and holes, and my feet are quite able to negotiate their way across the ground."

Arthur's tongue brushed the inside his cheek. "Milady, you have no sympathy for me, do you?"

"Sympathy?" Morgana picked her way over a large rock. "What could Milord possibly mean by that?" she teased.

Arthur gritted his teeth in amused frustration, clambering after her. "Here I am, trying my best to act the gentleman, and yet for all my trouble you scorn my gallantry." This was one of the things that threw him about Juliana – when at one moment his heart swelled with amorous notions, the next it could burst in frustration.

"Scorn it?" Morgana shook her head fervidly. "No, it is hardly that. It is only…" she searched for an explanation. "Well, I suppose I am very used to looking after myself."

The King raised his eyebrows. "Why is that?" he asked, rather surprised. "I confess, most noblewomen I have known have always complained of doting nursemaids and insufferable companions."

Morgana inwardly cursed herself for admitting that, hurriedly thinking of some way to spin this. "Ahh," she breathed. "I suppose it is… not my nature… to allow others to care for me, that is. I enjoy my freedoms, limited though they may be." She ducked her head, trying to pass her fumble as a quirk. "Call me a peculiar spirit, if you will."

Arthur pulled Morgana in the direction of the forest. "Well," he said, after a moment's consideration, "if it matters in any small way to you, Milady, I like your spirit." He smiled and glanced over his shoulder. "You are without doubt the most interesting, unique lady I have ever had the good fortune to meet."

Morgana laughed in relief. "Well thank you, Milord."

"Leon," Arthur corrected, falling back in step with Morgana. "Ah. Here we are," he announced, "and there it is."

Morgana looked askance into the shadows of the trees. "What is it?" she asked, convinced the darkness was playing tricks on her eyes.

Arthur's eyes sparkled as he gently pulled Morgana forward. "That, Lady Juliana," he explained merrily, "is a swing."

Morgana surveyed the object, circumspection mingling with interest. "A what?"

"A swing," Arthur repeated. He moved closer, leading Morgana toward the wooden plank that was seemingly suspended in thin air. "Please, sit."

Morgana was hesitant, but curiosity overrode that feeling, and lifting her long, velvety skirt, she perched delicately on the board. She fought for balance as the swing swiveled beneath her, but Arthur's steady hands at her waist held her in place. Instinctively, Morgana's hands curled around the supporting ropes and she looked up with her mouth hanging open. "How is this possible?" Morgana whispered.

Arthur grinned at her fascination. "The ropes are attached to a thick branch up there; it is difficult to see through the darkness."

"But why?" Morgana asked in wonder. "For what purpose do you have this swing?"

The King laughed and moved around behind her. "Do you trust me, Juliana?" he asked quietly, placing his hands firmly on the ropes.

Morgana looked over her shoulder and nodded her head. "Of course," she answered carefully.

Arthur smiled at her sweet, inquisitive expression. "Then hold tight," he said, and began to pull back on the ropes.