You wanted it, you got it - here's a chapter devoted almost exclusively to developing the M/M relationship, with just a smidge of Gwen added. Enjoy!
"He's really something, isn't he?"
When Morgana failed to answer, Gwen paused in brushing the lady's hair, circled around the low-backed chair where she sat at her dressing table, and gave her shoulder a gentle shake. "Morgana?"
Finally registering that Gwen was speaking to her, Morgana shook off her reverie and gave the maid an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry; I must have been a thousand miles away. What were you saying?"
Gwen sighed. "We were talking about Prince Merlin, don't you remember? I'd wager you were just thinking of him too."
"Naturally - after tonight he's probably all anyone is thinking of."
"I know! He must be very powerful to have stayed awake after that witch put everybody else to sleep, and ended her spell - not that I would have expected anything less, him being a prince and all . . . Still, he must have an awful lot of magic, don't you think?"
"I really haven't sufficient knowledge of magic to say," Morgana demurred. "But yes, he did seem quite powerful to me."
Some of Gwen's natural enthusiasm drained away; her voice was more subdued when she said, "Yes . . . and the way he made every torch and candle in the hall flare up - it was all a bit . . . well . . . scary. I don't envy you, Morgana."
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That night Morgana's sleep was disturbed by images of roaring fire searing through her dreams, blazing hotter and brighter as it surrounded her and lightened from orange to an unnatural gold - the same gold as Merlin's eyes, which were locked with hers, transfixing her, burning into her mind even as the flames burned her flesh . . .
She jerked awake, nearly throwing herself out of bed in an effort to escape the fire before her brain reoriented itself and she realized it wasn't real. Then she sat with her back pressed to her headboard, trying to slow her breathing and shake off the residual feelings of panic from her nightmare. It wasn't easy; visions of all-consuming flames used to plague her nearly every night when she was younger, and now it seemed they were back - now, when she'd thought she was free of them at last. Seeing Merlin light the torches earlier tonight must have evoked the old images in her mind. Damn Merlin.
Being angry with Merlin pleased Morgana - it was so much simpler than feeling other things for him. She slid back down into her bed, fluffed her pillows, and lay down on her side, smiling as she closed her eyes - and the blaze expanded behind her closed lids once more! Blazing fire, blazing eyes . . . blazing magic. Morgana bolted upright with a small cry, staring all about her with eyes opened to their widest; she was afraid to close them again.
What was more, she felt uncomfortably hot. Sweat soaked her body and her sheets, twisted by her tossing and turning, formed a stifling cocoon around her legs. In the aftermath of her nightmare, the heat was particularly unwelcome. Morgana extricated herself from her bedclothes and stood up; the cool stone floor under her bare feet was soothing, but it wasn't enough - not with the heat from the fireplace pervading the room's atmosphere.
She tried opening the window and poking her head out, but while this cooled her face it did little for the rest of her. Fresh rivulets of sweat streamed down her back, and she decided that she needed to get out of her stuffy chambers. There was a small balcony nearby - a perfect place to get some fresh air. She padded silently down the darkened corridors, pausing only once to duck into an alcove when a group of guards passed on their nightly patrol, rushed right to the balcony's edge and leaned over the stone railing.
The city of Camelot spread out below her; Morgana remembered the first time she had seen it, when she hadn't wanted to be here at all. Ironically, now she didn't want to leave. Replacing her father's castle at Cornwall with Camelot as 'home' in her mind had been hard enough; she didn't know if she could make that kind of adjustment again. What if she never felt like she belonged in Dagon . . .?
"Quite a view, isn't it?"
Morgana gasped and whirled around, momentarily confused because there seemed to be nobody there, as if the voice had issued from thin air. Then Merlin stepped out of the shadows, where he had been perfectly camouflaged thanks to his dark clothing. He'd replaced his cape with a jacket made of strange material unlike anything Morgana had ever seen and tied some sort of scarf around his neck - apart from that his attire was unchanged from what he'd worn to the feast hours ago - and his pale skin almost seemed to glow in the moonlight. Morgana subconsciously cataloged these tiny details of his appearance and knew she should be pleased to see him, if only because it confirmed that she wasn't hearing things, but somehow the sight of him only increased her agitation. Her heart hammered so hard and fast it was almost painful, and she was certain Merlin could hear it.
Aware of the effect he was having on her, he approached slowly, cautiously, making sure to stop with several feet still between them. "Don't be frightened, Lady Morgana. I won't hurt you."
Morgana's features slipped into the well-rehearsed sneer that she wore like armor in emotionally difficult situations. "Frightened? Of you? Don't flatter yourself."
"You're not afraid of me? I thought you were . . . earlier. You screamed," he reminded her awkwardly, almost accusingly.
"I - that - that wasn't - you can hardly blame me!" she sputtered indignantly. "What did you expect, after making such a spectacle of yourself?"
"I saved your brother's life," he hissed.
"Foster brother," Morgana automatically corrected him, wanting it to be clear she was no relative of Arthur's, because if Merlin hadn't yet realized what a prat Arthur could be he would soon - probably the next time the blond opened his mouth in Merlin's presence.
"Whatever you say."
"But you did it with magic," Morgana continued, "right in front of everyone. Really, it's no wonder people . . . reacted badly. Even with this new alliance between our kingdoms, magic will not be readily accepted here in Camelot."
"Really? I had no idea," Merlin said in a tone fairly dripping with sarcasm. Then he softened slightly, sounding almost hopeful when he spoke again. "But you, at least, aren't afraid of what I am . . ." He took a hesitant step in her direction.
She unthinkingly backed away, only to be halted by the cold stone rail enclosing the balcony pressing into the small of her back. She glanced over her shoulder, confirming that she was cornered, then back at Merlin. Please, don't push this - not yet, she entreated him silently. He read her unspoken request in her eyes and backed off, moving to lean against the rail a yard or so away from her; he wouldn't try to get closer to her until she indicated that she was ready.
Letting out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, she said softly, "I'm trying not to be." For a moment she considered voicing all her thoughts - Indeed, your magic is only half the problem; I find the prospect of spending my life with you more worrying. What if I cannot love you, or you don't love me? - but the idea had no sooner crossed her mind than she decided against it. She didn't know whether he had been informed of that particular condition of the peace treaty, though she thought he probably had. Still, she didn't want to discuss marriage with someone she'd known less than a day. This is a very hard position in which we find ourselves.
A mirthless smile curled Merlin's lips, as if he were thinking the same thing; several long minutes passed as they gazed out over Camelot, the air between them thick with words neither was ready to say. A sudden gust of wind blew in their faces, slicing right through Morgana's thin nightgown and making her shiver. Merlin caught the motion out of the corner of his eye and turned to face her, frowning slightly. "Why were you wandering around in that flimsy thing?"
Morgana flushed and crossed her arms over her chest, even though Merlin wasn't showing any interest in discovering exactly how much he could see through her gown (unlike certain other men would were they in his place); all she sensed from him was concern, and perhaps disapproval. "It grew too hot in my chambers," she said defensively. "I came out here in search of a little fresh air."
"Well, you'll catch your death if you aren't careful." As he admonished the somewhat offended lady of Camelot, Merlin shrugged off his coat and offered it to her. "Put this on."
Morgana blinked, her ire vanishing at his thoughtful gesture. "Oh . . . all right." She took the surprisingly heavy jacket and hesitantly draped it over her shoulders, commenting, "I've never seen anything like this," as she ran her fingers over the sleeve. "What sort of material is it?"
"What do you think it is?"
"It appears to be . . . scales." Merlin nodded. Morgana's brow wrinkled with confusion. "But what creature has scales so large? And just what is amusing you so?" she demanded, because Merlin was smirking at her as though she were missing something very obvious.
"Dragons - they're the only creatures with scales that size."
"Oh." It was obvious now Morgana thought about it, considering who Merlin's father was. But, "I didn't think a dragonlord would use his power to kill dragons," she said carefully.
Merlin was shocked. "Of course not! Dragons shed their skins as they grow, like snakes; we only make use of their hides and such after the original owners don't need them anymore. The dragons don't mind."
"I shouldn't think so; they're animals, aren't they?" Morgana spoke derisively, as if Merlin had suggested that sheep might mind having their wool shorn for spinning.
Merlin fought an urge to drop his head into his hands and groan - the girl clearly knew nothing about how things were in his kingdom. He opened his mouth, only to find himself lost for words - how was he supposed to explain his way of life to someone so completely different? Still, he had to try, because Morgana wouldn't last long in Dagon with her current attitude. "Actually, dragons are-" He broke off at the sound of footsteps from within the castle.
"That must be more guards making their nightly rounds. Damn!" Morgana hissed. As an unmarried young noblewoman, she technically wasn't allowed to be alone with men, not to mention the fact that being seen wearing only her nightgown and Merlin's scaly jacket would be mortifying.
"Come on!" Grabbing her wrist, Merlin pulled her to the arched doorway leading out onto the balcony, where they flattened themselves against the castle's outer wall and listened to the guards approach, hardly daring to breathe.
"All quiet here; let's head off. I wonder if the tavern is still open?"
"We're supposed to patrol every corridor, not just glance down them! Let's check that balcony - there could be an enemy scaling the walls this minute."
Morgana closed her eyes, resigning herself to embarrassment and possibly a scolding from Uther. Of course it would be just her luck that, on one of the few occasions when she wanted to go unnoticed, a newly recruited guard - some eager young fellow who strutted about yelling "Halt!" and "Who goes there?" and brandishing his weapon at every smallest sign of movement - would be assigned to patrol the part of the castle where she happened to be. The Fates must hate her.
The overzealous guard - a boy who looked about sixteen or seventeen, as she'd predicted - swaggered right out to the balcony's edge, peered over the railing, then reluctantly turned away, looking disappointed at not spying an invading army climbing the wall. He made his dejected way back inside the castle - and, amazingly, passed right by Merlin and Morgana.
Morgana couldn't believe it. They should have been clearly visible where they stood with their backs pressed to the wall, and her white gown almost glowed in the moonlight. How could they not have been discovered?
"That was close." Even after the guards were gone, Merlin still spoke softly. "I think you and I had better return to our rooms, before we really do get caught."
"I doubt we need to worry about that - those guards must be the most unobservant men in all of Albion! Unless . . ." Morgana's eyes widened as realization dawned. "You used magic to keep him from seeing us, didn't you?"
"Not much - it was just a minor stealth spell, to make us unnoticeable. It probably wouldn't have held up if he'd actually been looking for us, but-" Merlin stopped himself; the lady probably didn't want a lecture on stealth spells versus true invisibility spells. "I should return you to your chambers."
Morgana's eyes narrowed dangerously. "I can make it there on my own, thank you. And I will return to my chambers when I want to, not a moment sooner - you don't get to order me around just yet, my lord." She made to stalk off, but before she could-
"I wouldn't dream of it, my lady."