WiltingDaisies94: Ugh, so I've been watching Season 5 (I'm up through episode 4), and I am much less than pleased. Morgana is still awesome, no doubt, and evil still looks good on her, especially with the lessening of her smirking habit. But Gwen... what Gwen? Has she showed up for more than fifteen minutes so far? And Gwen and Arthur together... all of the ArMor fandom should be banging its head against the castle walls... G/A act more like brother and sister than M/A ever did... where is the sexual attraction? WHERE?!

*breathes*

Okay. So ranting aside... happy ArMor chapter!


Chapter 28

"At last."

Arthur breathed in Morgana's fresh scent, his arms wrapping around her slender waist as she grasped his back; they could not come close enough to each other. Arthur lifted Morgana so that her feet barely brushed the ground, tightening his hold on her.

When the two finally broke from their embrace, neither relaxed their pose. Arthur kept his arms around Morgana, much as he had the first time they'd met. Morgana placed her hands flat against Arthur's chest, gazing up at him with a look of pure relief.

"You are back," she murmured breathily, one hand reaching up to caress the exposed part of his face.

"Did I not tell you I would return unharmed, Milady?" Arthur leaned into her familiar, tender touch, nuzzling his nose against her hand. "I do not make promises I cannot keep." He smiled as her eyes searched his face. "Were you worried?"

Morgana laughed a delicate, easy sound. "Only that your stubborn nature should bring you to trouble," she replied, though her reproach was empty.

Arthur pulled her closer, kissing her smiling lips; he'd been yearning to do that the entire journey home. Their mouths sealed together, a perfect fit as Arthur and Morgana molded together. Feeling deprived and endlessly grateful to be home, Arthur shivered under the soft touch of Morgana's fingers against the nape of his neck, and opened her mouth further to deepen the kiss.

Closer.

All Morgana ever wanted was him to come closer, even when there was no more space to fill. The last few days had been darkened by an undertone of anxiety that had settled in the back of Morgana's mind. Whenever she was not with Lily, or attending to her chores or her mistress, Leon would flicker through her head, the constant question of his safety nagging at her. She did not want to admit how relieved she was when he stepped out of the forest and wrapped his arms around her.

"Mm," Morgana hummed contentedly, pulling back slowly, placing a peck on his lips as she did so. "Welcome back, Leon." She curled her arms up against herself and rested her head on his shoulder.

Arthur smiled, drawing Morgana into his chest. For the first time, an odd twinge of irritation struck him at being called by his knight's name. The kingly part of his ego was roaring to hear Lady Juliana express that same sentiment to him; Arthur, not Leon.

Morgana sighed, closing her eyes, enjoying the solidity that was Arthur. "Thank you for meeting me this evening, Milord," she whispered. "I know you must be in need of a good night's rest."

The King chuckled. "Well, I cannot deny that I am fatigued from the journey. But," he assured her, "I could not forgo seeing Milady, since the opportunity arises so infrequently."

Morgana moved her head to look up at him. "Milord," she replied defensively, "I know that I am not –"

"Shh, shh," Arthur shushed her, guiding her back to resting against him; she fit beautifully. "I did not mean to accuse, Milady. You have your secrets, and they are your own to keep for the moment." He inhaled the scent of her long hair. "I meant only to express how much more often I should like to meet you."

Morgana's heart fluttered. "Tomorrow," she said decisively, stepping back. "I will not keep you long this evening; you require your rest."

"As you wish, Milady." Arthur offered her his arm. "My judgment thanks you, though I admit, my spirit rather protests."

Morgana shook her head. "I give you little choice, Milord," she replied confidently, taking his arm.

Arthur accepted her answer without saying anything. The two walked together on the outskirts of the forest; they had arranged to meet by Arthur's swing, and began to wander away from the spot, too busy looking at each other to care where they were going.

"So," Morgana asked, watching the moonlight bounce off Arthur's golden mask, "did the King's company defeat the creature easily?"

"Milady," Arthur tried to persuade, knowing she would insist nonetheless, "you should not like to hear talk of battle, it is sinister, with little for a lady –"

Morgana pursed her lips and tilted her head down in a disapproving motion. "Nonsense," she interrupted clearly. "If I were a squeamish little thing I should not have asked in the first place."

"Yes," the King persisted, hoping she would fight him on the point, "but I am sure you only ask out of a sense of courtesy for the knights' wellbeing and my own. As I doubt our battle tactics are of much curiosity to you –"

"Then you mistake what may be of interest to me," Morgana retorted easily. "It matters little to me, from a purely strategic point of view, how many of the knights were injured. I want to know why they were harmed, what went wrong with the King's plan, and how His Majesty plans to remedy it so the mistakes are not repeated."

Arthur let out a bark of laughter and shook his head, charmed by her incorrigible nature. "Lady Juliana, I should be careful if I were you; your words give away your secrets. I can now with confidence say that your father was a military man."

Morgana raised her eyebrows; she had no intention of revealing how she'd truly acquired her tactical knowledge. Her mistress had often been forced by the King of Carmelide to attend sessions of planning with his knights, more for Guinevere to gauge the kingdom's geographical interests than to gather military information. As it was deemed inappropriate for the Princess to be the only female present, Morgana had often gone along as her companion, and always stood, attention rapt, as the knights talked strategy with the king.

"Perhaps," was the vague response she offered Arthur. "Or possibly a brother or uncle," she suggested. "Or yet, just an unusual education." Morgana moved intriguingly away from Arthur. "No matter though. Tell me about the battle."

And unwilling to concede that she had a point, Arthur began to recount the fight. He explained, diagramming the space in the air, walking Morgana through the attack from his tactical point of view. He found as he explained that he was choosing his words carefully, to make his plan seem as effective as possible. A nervousness in his chest kicked at him; Arthur realized he wanted Morgana's good opinion of his strategic capabilities.

First he explained the overall layout of the terrain, described the creature, and depicted the formation of his knights. Morgana watched him with eyes that took in everything, an expression that understood all, and nodded on occasion. When Arthur finished the preliminaries, she stopped him.

"But," Morgana said, holding up a hand, "if the size of the creature's head was really so much larger than that of its body, obviously the weak point would have been in the neck. And if the eyes were centered forward, the clear attack would be a center charge with a faction of four or five attacking from behind; a misdirection, like the Whitebaron's Charge." She shook her head, trying to visualize. "The frontal attack would have forced the creature backwards, giving the knights in the raised position an easy target, and the advantage of surprise."

Arthur looked at her in amazement; it all sounded so simple and obvious coming from her. And it was a perfectly viable plan at that… she could even cite the battle that had developed the strategy…

"I love you."

The words slipped out before Arthur even realized he was saying them. They came so naturally, understandably, that there was no hesitation, no doubt as he spoke. It had happened without the King seeing; leaving Camelot had allowed his heart to revolt against the separation from his Lady. This, he knew, was no idle flirtation, no passing fancy – she had his love, and he had no wish or will to escape her hold.

He heard Morgana's shortened breath, saw her mouth barely open, but a part of him knew she was not surprised or unhappy. Arthur had the feeling that she knew just as he did, and it was only the vocalizing of thought that gave her pause.

"Please Milady," Arthur started to apologize nonetheless. "I–"

"No." Morgana stopped him, placing the tips of her fingers against his lips. "Do not apologize," she whispered.

And that was all the permission Arthur needed to take her wrist and guide it away from his mouth, leaving him free to lean in for a kiss which revealed Morgana's answer as surely as if she had spoken it.