Oh no, there's more. I uploaded this chapter early because I got impatient haha

It is late and I am sleep deprived; I hope I do not regret this decision in the morning.

Enjoy!

"Morgana, no."

"But, Arthur—"

"This is ridiculous."

"It really isn't! You will look lovely, Arthur!"

"But that," he said, pointing at the offending piece of furniture, "is absolutely not going to happen."

Morgana pouted, tying the string of yarn rather tightly around his tunic-clad torso, just about cutting off his circulation. "You need to learn to love the dressing table, Arthur."

Arthur flinched slightly as she pulled the yarn taut, making no move to loosen it. She'd been tying colourful strings of yarn around what seemed to be every body part he had. He knew what she was doing, but he didn't understand the steps to getting there.

"Morgana," he blurted out after ten more minutes of getting mummified with string, "what are you doing?"

"I'm measuring your size. Speaking of which, has Merlin been feeding you too much?"

Arthur's ears turned red. "I am not fat."

The King's ward grinned behind his back, letting out a skeptical hum. "I think it's because you eat so much meat."

"I am a grown man! I do a lot of exercise, and—"

"Yes, precisely; you're not a growing boy anymore, Arthur. You should really be careful; you don't want to end up with a potbelly."

"I am not fat, and nor will I ever be!"

She hummed again. "Sure, Arthur. Lift your arms a little?" she asked before he could retort.

The prince grumbled in annoyance, but complied as his step-sister wound the string around his chest.

"There…" she muttered to herself, holding a large piece of pink fabric against his torso. "That should fit… but try not to eat anything for a little while."

Arthur frowned, bemused. "And why not?"

"Don't want you getting any fatter," she called over her shoulder as she sauntered off to get some more fabric, skirts trailing behind her on the stone floor.

Arthur fumed, spluttering.

"Alright," Morgana said, holding the roll of fabric up. "I think we have enough now."

Arthur very nearly squeaked at the glaring pink in her arms, but managed to contain himself. "Er, Morgana—"

"Hush now, Arthur. I need to make sure this is sufficient." She flicked a delicate hand at his arms. "Up."

Arthur groaned, lifting his limbs. The King's ward unrolled the soft material, wrapping it tightly around her step-brother's chest. She hummed tunelessly, nodding in satisfaction.

"We have just enough for your massive size," she declared, grinning.

The prince made a very un-princely, whiney, hungry-five-year-old-like noise. "Why are you enjoying this?"

"Gwen should be here soon with the lavender trim…."

Arthur choked on a groan. "Guinevere is coming?"

Morgana smirked knowingly. "Turn around," she said cheerfully, ignoring him. "I need to pin it back."

A few minutes later, Arthur stood still, his arms held out at either side of his body. There was a silky drape of pink fabric wrapped tightly around his torso, with another, longer piece right below, falling loosely from his hips to his feet. He squirmed in discomfort, grimacing.

"Morgana… it's too tight, I can't breathe…."

"You'll be fine, Arthur. Besides, if you had just taken your shirt off when I'd asked, then it wouldn't be so tight."

Arthur blushed, his colour matching that of his attire. "What if someone were… to… come in…?"

Morgana frowned, turning to look at him. "Oh, you mean Gwen?"

Arthur's eyes widened, and he let out a strangled sound. "No, why would you—"

"So it's Gwen, then," she interrupted nonchalantly.

He said nothing as she undid a few of the pins, slipping some fabric off his shoulders.

"You're not denying it," she sang.

Gwen sighed exasperatedly for the umpteenth time as Merlin stumbled and fell into another wall.

"Merlin, go see Gaius," she urged.

Yet the warlock continued to shake his stubborn, bruised head. "I'm fine."

The serving girl was in too much of a hurry to forcefully send him back. "Well, hurry up, then," she said, quickening her pace a little. Morgana could be a monster when she didn't get what she wanted when she asked for it.

"Now, to the dressing table… and then all we'll need is the trim, and we're off!" Morgana declared.

Arthur visibly paled. "Please, Morgana, not that. Anything, but not that."

The King's ward was unmoved. "Is this still because you're scared Gwen will see you?"

The prince blushed. "This has nothing to do with—"

"You don't have to hide it, Arthur. It's just us in here," she said impassively.

Arthur heaved a great sigh. "There is nothing to hide," he said eventually.

Morgana rolled her eyes, steering him to the dressing table. "Sure there isn't. Now, I think the blue eyeshadow—"

"What?" Arthur interrupted, upon realizing where he was headed. He stopped walking, pushing against his step-sister. "No!"

"You lost the bet, Arthur."

"I will not—"

"You will. Now sit. Down."

There was a dangerous edge to her voice that warned Arthur to be compliant. He sat down immediately.

He eyed the ornate box beside him, wary of its contents, and almost frightened to imagine what might end up on his face.

And then Morgana opened it, displaying a lot of strange pastes and creams, all in different colours, not to mention the few items that looked suspiciously like torture devices of the most corrupt nature.

Arthur paled.

And there we go! What will happen next? I don't know. Will Arthur's face be 'fixed', as Morgana would put it? Maybe.

Thank you for reading!