A/N - Here we are. I hope I didn't leave you hanging too long. But I hope this chapter makes up for it ;) It is one of the more important ones in regards to the ArMor relationship. Hope you enjoy and please review. They mean a lot to me!

35) A Lover's Touch

The torches of Odin's army were like fireflies in the darkness of the night, lined up in perfect lines along the hillside, coming closer. It would be less than an hour until they were upon the gates and the fighting would begin. Arya and Alana stood on the balcony, overlooking the comings and goings of the knights, rushing with crossbows and swords and maces to prepare to die.

"Come on, sister," said Alana "It's time."

"I must go and change, Alana. Will you remain in your dress?" asked Arya.

"You cannot mean to fight. You can't."

"Do not fret. I mean only to wear my armour as a safety precaution, nothing more. I will patrol the streets, make sure the people are as safe as possible."

"I will stay in the throne room. To negotiate with Odin if it comes to it. For that I must remain formal."

"Do not do anything hasty, though. Promise me."

"You will be the first to know, Arya, I promise. Just stay safe."

"You too."

The two sisters embraced before the eldest departed to her chambers, leaving Alana alone, watching the opposing army. She was not ready for this. War was too much. She'd already ordered an execution. Ordering the men to fight was too close to that for her; too close to ordering their executions. Because what hope was there really? She knew what her mother would say to that. She would say something like 'you cannot hope to win the battle when you already believe it to be lost' but Alana did not feel optimistic. The cold hard truth was death and not even Morgana could make it seem any brighter.

By the time the war counsel ended, the sky was as black as ever save for the full moon which shed an eerie glow over the encampment. Arthur led Morgana out of the tent by the hand, intent on finding Merlin to prepare them something to eat. He knew that she would be hungry after her extremely eventful day.

As they walked across the camp, past many of the men sitting around fires, eating basic meals, Morgana stopped, her eyes falling on her son. She made her way over to him, a smile crossing her face when she found him sleeping softly, an arm tucked protectively under Belle's head. A small laugh escaped her. It was cute, she had to admit.

"It seems young Edmund has a sweetheart," chuckled Arthur, putting a hand on her waist as he reached her.

"Don't tease him, Arthur," she reprimanded with a laugh.

"Me? Tease him? Never," he responded, mischief lacing his tone.

"Just remember, Arthur Pendragon, I grew up with you. There are plenty of secrets I could share about you, too," threatened Morgana, playfully, as they started walking towards their own mats.

"Like that time I caught you in my bedchambers when we were teenagers? You had stayed under there all night."

"You stole my sword. I was getting it back."

"Sure. You just couldn't resist my bed."

"How dare you insinuate such a thing, Arthur Pendragon! What about that time I fell out of the tree and was unconscious for hours and you kissed me? Several times, might I add."

"I was trying to wake you up!"

"That's what you tell yourself."

"Ok, fine, we both have our fair share of embarrassments. Don't worry, I won't tease them," relented Arthur.

"Good," responded Morgana with a smirk.

Silent again, they walked the remainder of the way to their sleeping mats, secluded from the rest of the camp and mostly hidden from view by the trees and bushes. The king spotted Merlin on the other side, laughing with Gwaine and Lancelot. He looked at Morgana and decided that neither of them seemed in the mood for food.

"We will get them back safely, Morgana," said Arthur, breaking her reverie.

"I know…" she responded.

"I'm serious. Tomorrow at nightfall we will reach Camelot and we will take back 0ur city," he continued "Odin won't know what's hit him."

"We're not going to kill him, Arthur," said Morgana.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, we won't kill him. No more blood will be shed."

"Morgana, he waged a war on us. The penalty is death."

"No, Arthur, the penalty is what you make it."

"If… If Odin surrenders, then I shall let him live. If he resists…"

"I know. We will have no choice."

"You should stay out of the battle, Morgana. Be a healer. Stay safe."

"Oh, Arthur. You know I cannot do that."

"Why not? Nobody expects you to continue putting your life on the line. You've done enough for Camelot already."

"I'm not doing it to prove myself. I'm doing it for my children."

"Morgana…"

"Odin made this war personal when he kidnapped me and tried to take them, Arthur. I may not want him dead, but I want him punished."

"I don't want to lose you again, Morgana. I can't lose you again."

"You are never going to lose me again, Arthur. I promise."

She sealed her promise with a soft, slow kiss on his lips. He pushed her back gently, holding her at arm's length and looked at her, the question in his eyes. She nodded her response and he pressed his lips against hers again. This time it was fast and passionate; a mixture of excitement, love and pure desire. She regained control and pushed him down, landing on top of him. His hands moved quickly, pulling the shirt over her head and discarding it carelessly, baring her to the chill of the night, remedying it with a trail of burning kisses down her breasts.

"I want you, Arthur Pendragon," she whispered, placing a hand on his chest lovingly.

His smile was devious as he flipped her on to her back, eliciting a surprised moan from her. He leant over her and locked lips again, tongues fighting for dominance as they struggled to remove the remainder of their clothes, the motions unpractised for both, although they never broke their contact.

Morgana reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, feeling his taut muscles, well-defined from his years and years of training. She closed her eyes and breathed in his scent, safe and warm. This wasn't her first time but it sure as hell felt like it. Passion. Love. Desire. All were foreign feelings. His hand caught in her dark tresses as she kissed his collarbone, biting and sucking, determined to make him hers, a possessiveness overcoming her.

"I love you," he whispered.

The battle raged now, the sky illuminated with fire. Odin's army had wasted no time at all setting up their heavy weaponry; fully intent on battering the gates down. Alana surveyed from the turrets of the central tower, confident that their efforts would be futile, at least for a while. But the dying screams pierced her to the core. She felt bile rise in her throat as she saw a fireball hit one man in the chest, helpless to watch as he flailed and screamed, his skin catching fire.

She'd intended to return to the throne room but something about the battle scene had kept her transfixed. Come home, mother, she thought. Be safe, Arya. She prayed to all the gods she knew and had never truly believed in to return her family to her, safe and sound.

"Princess Alana," came the call of an unknown knight.

"Yes, sir," she responded, automatically.

"There is word from King Arthur, my lady," he told her, handing over the rolled piece of parchment.

"Thank you," Alana finished, giving him his leave.

She broke the seal and began to read, a sigh of relief escaping her. Her mother and brother were safe for now. They would ride at dawn and be upon the city by nightfall. Now all that was left was to keep their hold on the citadel until then. Not too difficult…

Arya had broken her word. She hadn't meant to. When she promised her sister to not join the battle, she'd fully anticipated not to. But circumstances had not wished her to, it seemed. One of the higher ranking knights whose name escaped her, had come rushing to her, battered and bruised, requesting her guidance. The shock of the men asking her, a girl, with help in the strategy had been enough to let her forget her promise.

"My lady?" the insistent voice broke her from her thoughts.

"Right. War. Of course," she muttered to herself, still completely unsure what to say. It was all well and good to be asked about the course of action to take, but it was hell of a difficult to come up with a plan now as the fighting raged on and she could vividly picture death and violent injury.

"My lady?"

"Odin thinks he has us trapped. He is wrong," she said at last.

"I don't understand… The castle is under siege…" responded the knight, questioningly.

"As I am well aware. But Odin does not know about the tunnel that leads into the forest," added Arya, resisting the urge to roll her eyes at their stupidity "Sir Bran, I wish for you to take a group of fifty men through that way. Infiltrate them in any way you can. Do as much damage to their defences as possible."

"Of course, Your Highness," answered Sir Bran "I will select my most trustworthy men."

"See to it that you do. We would not want to put a traitor in the enemies camp now, would we?" retorted Arya, smartly.

"No… No, of course not," he stumbled over his words.

"There is no time like the present," she said, pointedly, smirking slightly when he looked deeply uncomfortable and hurried off.

"And the rest of the army, princess?"

"You shall remain here and fight. Until the king returns with the rest of the army."

Several of the men bowed to her which only served to make her uncomfortable as she nodded and hastily retreated from the barracks, sword swinging at her hip, so far unused. The opposing army was yet to breach the walls, held at bay by the archers atop the turrets.

Morgana woke up in the early hours of the morning, not quite dawn yet, but still the sun was creeping slowly into the sky. She shivered and immediately noticed why. She was clad in only a thin shirt, half-covered by an equally thin blanket. At least she'd had the presence of mind to pull it back on after last night which was more than could be said for the king. A smile adorning her face and losing years to her age, she snuggled against her bare chest which still managed to emit warmth. His arm cradled her head and she leant into it again.

"Morgana…" he mumbled, his eyes fluttering open at her slight stirring.

"I'm here," she replied, propping herself up on one elbow and turning to stare into his eyes.

"Did that really happen? Or was it just my imagination?" he asked with a grin.

"You tell me, Arthur. Did it feel like your imagination?" teased Morgana.

"No…" he trailed off, catching her upturned lips in a quick kiss "Did that?"

"Come now, Arthur, you certainly left nothing to the imagination."

At this, he blushed slightly, swatting at her in mock annoyance as she giggled at him. It was a long time since he'd heard her so carefree, so… young. Perhaps the wrong day, considering what was about to transpire. But it was endearing to hear. Especially considering he was the person responsible.

"I love you, Morgana Le Fey."

"And I you."

"As much as I would love to remain here with you all day, duty calls."

"Tonight, Arthur. In the royal chambers. In our kingdom."

"Tonight."

With reluctance, the pair rose from the sleeping mat that was never meant for two to share, unsurprised to find the rest of the camp still asleep, aside from the watchmen. The knights required sleep in order to function to the best of their ability whereas Arthur and Morgana were driven by their hearts.

When Morgana released Arthur's hand, she suddenly felt like a part of her was missing. And she knew that she never wanted to leave his side again. Ever.

A/N - This was such a great chapter to write for me. I've looked forward to it for ages. I'm not particularly happy with it but it is definitely one of my favourite moments for me. I hope you all all loved it though even if my writing of it is pretty rubbish ;) I do hope that it was at the right moment in their relationship and not too sudden. Also, I hope you don't feel the timing is out of character in regards to Morgana's worry for her daughters back in Camelot. My reasoning is that Arthur's presence gives her a sort of calming effect :) And please excuse the fact that it had to happen in a campsite around millions of knights. But, hey, it's medieval times. I'm pretty it would be kind of normal... Maybe... Oh well :P

Once again, please leave a review and let me know what you think.