Title: Drowning In You

Rating: T

Pairing: Arthur/Morgana.

Summary: Someone is drowning young women in Camelot. With no motive and no suspects, Morgana must work out who the murderer is before she becomes the next victim…

Toeing on her slippers and grabbing a silver candlestick she dashed out after him. Arthur looked at her incredulously.

"Do you listen to anything I tell you?"

She scoffed. "Of course not."

"You should really stay inside," he urged.

"Arthur, shut up." Morgana rolled her eyes and brandished the candlestick. "I'm coming with you."

"Fine woman, but when Father gives me an earful for letting you out here you can explain to him why you disobeyed me."

"Disobeyed you?" She began to stride down the hallway, forcing Arthur to follow after her. "Sorry to remind you, but I'm not your pet dog."

"No, I like dogs."

Morgana eyed him distastefully. "The resemblance between you is uncanny. I can see you as a golden retriever. Blonde, slobbery…smells when wet."

"I do not smell when wet!"

They slipped down the stone staircase emerging into the foyer. "Arthur, sometimes your horse smells sweeter than you do." She smirked. "And sometimes Merlin smells better than either of you."

"Merlin?" He stormed out after her into the rain slicked courtyard, but his retort was cut off by Sir Leon and several others of his men hurrying over to him.

"Sire, we've found another body…" The knight trailed off as he glanced at Morgana and then down to her candlestick.

Arthur coughed pointedly.

Sir Leon blushed bashfully and with some difficulty tore his eyes away from Morgana back to his Prince. "Another woman by the lake. She seems to have…to have been drowned like the others…"

The knight trailed off again to stare at Morgana, who crossed her arms self consciously and raised an eyebrow.

"Sir Leon?" Arthur's thin patience snapped as the knight's attention was once again diverted. Following his line of sight he turned to Morgana.

His eyes widened. "Morgana," he growled, glaring at his knights, "you're in your nightdress."

"I know what I'm wearing Arthur, I don't need an update every time I change outfit."

"No, I mean you're in your nightdress. It's thin, and white." He cleared his throat and moved to shield her from the gaze of his men. "It's wet out here."

Morgan's face went white then red, her face flushing along her high cheekbones. Wordlessly Arthur pulled his tunic over his head, leaving him bare-chested in the courtyard.

She swallowed.

His eyes fixed firmly at a point just above her left ear he handed it to her. "Put this on." His face pulled into a frown as he glanced back at his knights, who were all suddenly very interested in not looking at Morgana. "It seems I won't get anything done around here otherwise."

Slipping it over her head it almost swamped her, the bottom falling past her knees, the sleeves dangling far over her hands so that she had to roll them up. She crossed her arms. "I look ridiculous."

"But at least you're no longer half naked in the presence of my men." His voice became dry. "Though I'm surprised you'd wear it considering my apparent stench."

"Don't worry; I'm breathing through my mouth."

"Sire, if I might interrupt," said Sir Leon, intervening before there was another body in the courtyard, "if you'll follow me I can show you the corpse."

Returning to the situation at hand, Arthur nodded sharply.

"There wasn't time to take her to Gaius' rooms, what with the panic in the streets and the alarm bells sounding," Sir Leon explained as they crossed the courtyard and through a narrow stone archway into the corridor of rooms belonging to the castle guards that ringed the outer walls of Camelot. "So we laid her out here and summoned the physician to us instead."

He rounded a corner and then halted outside a small room without a door. "My Lord Physician?"

"Enter," called Gaius. The old man looked up from where he was bending over the body as the group trouped in. "Prince Arthur. Lady Morgana," he added, his tone betraying his surprise at her presence and her attire.

"Gaius." Morgana raised an eyebrow pointedly and he turned back to the body, his lips pressed into a thin line, though one of the corners threatened to curl into smile.

"As you can see, it's the same method of murder used to kill her." There was no need to point out the large dark bruises ringing the corpse's neck, or her water logged air cavities. "She was young, and in relative health until she was drowned. And recently I'd say," Gaius surmised.

Morgana looked at the young woman stretched out on the hastily cleared table, her face pale and bloated, her lacklustre blonde hair slicked to her scalp by the murky water. "How can you tell?" she asked quietly.

Gaius picked up the young woman's arm and moved it with difficulty up and then back down. "Rigor mortis is at its height twelve hours after death. As she's still mostly moveable, and doesn't show great signs of decomposition, she must have been killed within the last eight to ten hours I'd estimate."

"Has the King been informed?" asked Arthur.

Gaius nodded gravely. "He's with the knights who found her now, trying to decide how to quell the panic in the streets." He shook his head. "I'm afraid the alarm bells have rather spoiled the King's plan to keep this hushed up."

"Perhaps now it's out in the open we'll have more chance of catching the culprit. Someone might come forward with new information," Morgana pointed out.

"Or it'll drive the murderer underground and there'll be rioting," argued Arthur.

"I'm afraid the prince might be right," said Gaius sagely, washing his hands and motioning for two guards to wrap the body up in a sheet. "This situation could get out of hand very quickly. Let us pray that the King manages to bring calm to his people before daybreak or there may be more bodies for me to examine."

"Oh look, it's my sweet smelling servant. Glad to see you didn't sleep through the warning bells."

Merlin's face creased in confusion as he pulled back the door to Arthur's chambers and let Arthur and Morgana in. "What?"

Arthur rolled his eyes, shared a vaguely amused look with Morgana and then slumped into the chair nearest the fire. "Nevermind."

"Ignore him Merlin; it's been a long night." Morgana took the chair opposite and curled up, tucking her long legs beneath her.

Merlin nodded and excused himself, slipping out to the kitchens.

"And an even longer one for Father." Arthur scrubbed his face tiredly with his hand. "Another body. Gods, I knew this would happen." His tone turned darkly righteous. "I knew I was right about her, but you wouldn't listen. Now do you believe me?"

Morgana shifted uneasily.

Arthur snorted at her expression. "Surely you can't believe it was another coincidence?"

"I know what it looks like-"

"That Bridget slipped off at the market, murdered another woman and then came back, claiming to have become lost."

Morgana shook her head vehemently, her hair flying widely about her shoulders. "Or she could genuinely have lost us in the crowd and now be the innocent victim in all of this." She curled up closer to the fire, the thought of her friend as a cold blood killer chilling her blood. "Either way you can't just go around accusing her," she asserted pragmatically. "Bridget's nobility, Arthur. Bedworth would probably declare war if you accused his only daughter of murdering villagers."

"Then what do you suggest?" Arthur toed off his boots and sank further into his chair. "Or perhaps you'd prefer to ignore your friend's psychopathic tendencies and continue to pretend that everything is wonderful."

"I'm not trying to pretend everything is wonderful," Morgana argued. "I'm just saying that making unfounded accusations about the daughter of one of your father's closest friends is politically not a good move. Uther would pitch a fit and you'd be thrown in the dungeons."

"Protecting me, Morgana?" Arthur smirked. "I'm touched."

She scowled. "I'm not protecting you, you idiot, I'm trying to prevent your delusions of self-righteousness from causing a war."

"Then what do we do?"

"You need to catch her in the act," suggested Merlin as he re-entered the room and handed Morgana a steaming goblet. "My lady."

"Thank you, Merlin." Morgana bestowed him with one of her lovely smiles as she inhaled the scent of the hot spiced wine, before taking a sip. "That's very thoughtful of you."

Arthur's fingers drummed the arm of his chair impatiently. "Anything for me, Merlin?"

"How about some clothes?" Merlin replied meaningfully, pulling a dark blue shirt from a nearby dresser. "They're all the rage at the moment."

Arthur shot him a look but put it on dutifully. "I meant did you bring anything for me to eat or drink?"

Merlin wavered awkwardly.

"You forgot."

"I didn't forget." Merlin patted himself down desperately and then reached into his pocket. "I have…half an apple." He sniffed at it. "Actually, I think this might have been thrown at me."

"Forget it, Merlin." Arthur sighed and shot Morgana a look. "And you still think he smells sweeter than me?"

"I did say sometimes," Morgana smiled. "But what did you mean Merlin, catching Bridget in the act? We can hardly follow her around all day every day, waiting to see if she snatches another young woman and drowns her."

"Actually," said Arthur thoughtfully, "that's not a bad idea." He turned to where his servant had perched on the edge of the bed. "Merlin, you are to follow Lady Bridget wherever she goes."

"What!" Morgana almost choked on her wine. "That's a ridiculous idea."

Merlin nodded vigorously. "I agree with Lady Morgana."

"Who do you work for?" There was a significant pause as Arthur stared his servant down.

"You." Merlin's answer was hesitant, as though he wasn't sure where this was going but he knew he wouldn't like it when he got there anyway.

"Right, so who do you take orders from?"

"You."

Arthur nodded pointedly. "So for once, listen to what I'm saying and do it. Do not let Bridget out of your sight and report any suspicious activity to me. Do you understand?"

"I take it this is in-between catering for your needs, or do you wish me to devote all my time to stalking her ladyship? And when I'm reporting to you, who's going to be watching her then?"

"Merlin."

"Fine." He crossed his arms. "Anyone else you'd like me to spy on or can I go to bed?"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "No, you're dismissed."

With one final despairing look in Morgana's direction Merlin sloped off to his room.

As soon as the door was shut Arthur waggled his finger in Morgana's direction. "This is your influence. He was never this cheeky before." He huffed. "I miss the days of spineless Merlin."

"You could say I just bring out the best in him." Morgana stifled a yawn. "Arthur, having Merlin follow Bridget really is a silly idea."

"You were the one who suggested it."

She glared at him over the rim of her goblet. "In jest."

"Morgana, stop worrying." Arthur stretched lazily and smiled at her. "It's the perfect plan. Either way we prove whether Bridget is guilty or innocent. One of us has to be right." He shrugged. "Besides, she'll never even notice."

"I think I'm being followed."

Morgana slid from her saddle, gave her horse a pat and then handed the reigns to one of the stable boys. She turned to her friend who was twisting a handkerchief round in her hands and gently slid her hand into the crook of her elbow.

"Whatever gives you that idea?"

Bridget let herself be steered into the walled gardens, her face puckered with worry. "Sometimes I have this prickling sensation at the back of my neck, as though eyes are watching me, and when I turn round I'm sure I see a, a boy… a man watching me. But as soon as I blink he's gone."

"Sounds like a healthy dose of paranoia to me," Morgana soothed, her gut twisting at the lie.

Bridget didn't look convinced. "What if it's the murderer? What if I'm his next victim?"

"Bri, it's not the murderer," said Morgana firmly. "Besides, Gaius already established that it has to be a woman committing these crimes. And I highly doubt you're next on the list of victims. This person seems to be attacking only the village women. Not someone within the protection of the castle walls, under Uther's very nose."

"But what if it is?"

"And I'm telling you it's not." Morgana squeezed her hands and sat them down on a low stone bench. "Let's talk about something else. Have you decided what token you're going to give Sir Bedivere tomorrow?"

Bridget's face brightened slightly. "My handkerchief." She glanced down where the piece of silk lay crumpled in her fingers, and hastily began to smooth out the creases. "It's intimate enough to please him, and yet not so much that it would publically disgrace me."

"Good compromise. I'm sure your Father will appreciate your discretion."

Bridget hummed, tongue between her teeth as tried to smooth a particularly stubborn wrinkle. "Yes. I think if I'd offered my garter to Bedivere, Father might have suffered an apoplexy and I didn't want to spoil his day. He's certainly looking forward to it, as I am. A chance to see all of your fine knights in action." Bridget glanced slyly at her friend. "And of course Thaniel's taking part too."

"Is he?" Morgana feigned indifference. "I hope he knows what he's letting himself in for."

"Of course he does. The chance to win fifty gold crowns, to kiss your hand, to claim you as his lady."

"That's not what I meant." Morgana began to pick distractedly at the leaves of a nearby shrub. "I'm sure it's the money that's the key motivator anyway."

"I don't think my brother is quite that mercenary. And we're hardly in need of the money." Bridget watched her from beneath her lashes. "Has he asked for your token yet?"

"No."

"And Arthur?"

"Hasn't either. Perhaps neither of them wish to be my champion."

"And Uther is going to start wearing a dress and calling himself Elaine." Bridget frowned. "Perhaps they're just waiting for the opportune moment."

"Yes well, let's hope that isn't in the arena before the tournament starts. I'd have to choose between them."

There was a pregnant pause and Morgana blanched as the implications suddenly hit home. She gripped Bridget's arm hard and cursed loudly.

"They're going to make me choose."

"Uther, this was an exceptional idea. An excellent distraction for the populace from all of this grim news."

The King smiled genially at his friend. "A riot was the last thing we needed. This way the knights of Camelot can demonstrate their abilities and impress upon the public that they will be well protected."

Bedworth nodded. "And here come two of our finest competitors now! Hail Prince Arthur. My son."

Sat beside the two men in the royal box, Morgana shifted uncomfortably. Bridget patted her hand consolingly as Gwen took her seat behind them. "You should be flattered."

"Flattered? They bloody well planned this and I'm going to kill them both."

"Not before they kill each other," Bridget said lowly. "Arthur looks positively thunderous and I haven't seen my brother this grim since…well since ever."

Morgana had time to shoot her friend a withering look before Thaniel and Arthur were bowing low in front of her.

Arthur gazed at her seriously. "My lady Morgana, I request the pleasure of wearing your token as I fight today."

"My lady," said Thaniel, stepping slightly in front of the prince, "I too petition you for the honour and privilege of bearing your token in the tournament."

Indecision gnawed her insides.

She glanced at where both Bedworth and Uther sat waiting impatiently for her to decide, Uther's face inscrutable, Bedworth's mildly amused. She couldn't be rude to their guests, but she knew what signal it would send if she simply handed her token to Thaniel and snubbed the prince.

Her eyes narrowed. If they wished to make her choose they were sorely mistaken. Morgana was no-one's puppet.

"Gentlemen. My decision is this."

She tossed the handkerchief high in the air. The scrap of blue and purple with the House of Gorlois embroidered in the corners fluttered high in the breeze. A sudden gust caught it and sent it swooping abruptly down low. The two men jostled each other to reach it, arms outstretched, fingers straining to grasp.

And then it was caught in a vice like grip, crushed in a knight's hand.

"My lady." Thaniel kissed the token before tying it to his armour. "I win this tournament in your honour."

There was little Arthur could say. He nodded curtly at his opponent and to the royal box, refusing to catch Morgana's eye as he stalked off over to where Merlin was polishing his sword.

"Who could have thought such a tiny thing could cause such a rift between two men?" Uther muttered lowly in her ear, so only she could hear. "A very diplomatic response Morgana. Well done."

Morgana could only nod distractedly, her eyes still focussed on Arthur who was swinging the blade in his hand like an extension of himself. If she listened very faintly she could hear the hum of the sword as it cleaved the air in two.

"Well this should be interesting," murmured Bridget.

Morgana twisted the fabric of her dress in her hands. "This isn't going to end well."

Three hours later and Bridget had leaped up, shouting. "No! Not at his face!"

People were staring Morgana realised. She tugged at her friend's sleeve. "Bri! Sit down; you're making a spectacle of yourself."

"I don't care," Bridget retorted and turned back to the arena. She shook her fist at Sir Michael. "Aim lower! Aim lower!" She winced as Bedivere took another hit from Michael's sword, the sound of the blade hitting his armour ringing out into the arena. "Not that low you cheat!"

"My dear," said Bedworth, his face turning as red as his beard. "Please control yourself, or I will have you sent back to the castle."

Bridget reluctantly resumed her seat, though she didn't stop muttering. "My poor Sir Bedivere."

"Bri, he's twenty seven years old," Morgana consoled her. "I think he can take care of himself."

"Did you even see that last hit?" Bridget's head sunk into her hands as Sir Michael continued to beat Sir Bedivere quite soundly. "If he comes out of this tournament with the ability to have children it'll be a miracle."

Morgana and Gwen exchanged looks. There was a great cry from the crowd, as with one final blow Bedivere sank to his knees, Michael's blade at his throat, his helmet cast off, face glistening with sweat and dirt.

"Do you yield?"

Bedivere nodded tiredly. "Aye, I concede."

Bridget groaned into her hands as the trumpets sounded and Michael helped Bedivere up, the two knights walking out of the arena in separate directions- Michael to the next round of competitions, Bedivere limping towards the medical tents.

"Lady Bridget, would you like me to inquire after Sir Bedivere's health?" Said Gwen kindly. "It would be no trouble."

Bridget nodded vigorously. "Thank you, Gwen."

The two women settled back to watch the next round of contests, but Gwen didn't reappear again until the final match.

"My lady, I'm sorry I took so long but there was…" she trailed off as she caught sight of the two men in the arena fighting each other, the dust around them flying up into a great cloud, their blades deadly and shining as they duelled.

"Is that Prince Arthur and Lord Thaniel?"

"Yes," replied Bridget seeing as Morgana was unable to reply, her gaze fixed unblinking on the fight in front of her, fingers wrapped around the wooded railing that circled the arena, nails making grooves in the soft wood, knuckles white. "Though what'll be left of them after this I have no idea. How's Bedivere?"

Gwen winced as with a particularly hard blow Arthur stumbled and almost fell to the floor, Thaniel's sword cleaving the air before viciously denting the prince's chest armour.

"He's as well as can be expected, my lady," she replied tentatively as Arthur swung back in retaliation, his sword thrust low and accurate, clipping Thaniel's leg greaves and nicking his calves. The blood welled thick and red, staining the metal. "He's broken a rib and has some bruising on his face…"

Thaniel's thrust was parried and Arthur smashed his sword handle upwards, knocking the other man's helmet off his head, sending it spinning into the dirt. Thaniel spat out a mouthful of blood, his nose bloodied as well before going on the offensive again, his sword aimed high at Arthur's throat.

"Gaius thinks he might have a minor concussion too, but apart from that the rest of his injuries are minor."

There was a scuffle as both men grappled for the upper hand, the fight drawing to a climax.

And then Thaniel was lying on his back in the dirt, his sword knocked from his hand and lying discarded behind him. At some point Morgana's handkerchief had broken free from its fastenings and now landed at Arthur's feet.

"Yield." Arthur's voice was as soft as steel, his hand unwavering on his sword, the blade point resting lightly at Thaniel's jugular.

"I yield."

There was a tense moment as nobody moved, the two men in tableau against the sky.

Then Arthur drew his arm back and reached a hand down. Wordlessly he picked up the token lying limply before him, and then helped his opponent stand. Uther was beaming from ear to ear as his son made his way over to the royal box. Even Bedworth looked impressed, though his eyes also held concern for Thaniel, who bowed briefly before walking off towards the medical tents.

Morgana could only watch in silence, her face impassive.

The trumpets blared, playing the traditional victor's fanfare before Uther signalled for silence.

"My people, I present to you your Tournament Champion, Prince Arthur."

There was a loud cheer from the assembled crowd, their faces bright with the excitement they had just witnessed, the atmosphere buzzing with electricity.

Uther glanced at Morgana and then back to Arthur. "Champion, you may collect your prize."

There was a dark look in Arthur's eyes Morgana didn't like, but she offered her hand anyway for the customary knightly kiss.

Instead he gripped her hand firmly and pulled her down towards him.

Her mouth met his.

There were loud gasps from the watching crowd, but Morgana could only focus on Arthur's mouth against hers. It was a hard kiss, nothing soft or chivalrous about it. It was angry and passionate, and her teeth bumped against his. When he suddenly let her go she knew that her lips would be bruised.

He thrust the token she had given Thaniel into the hand he still gripped. "Next time, my lady, I suggest you choose your champion more wisely."

And then he stalked away, not even giving her time to reply.

Merlin gave her a helpless look before scurrying after Arthur, the chest of fifty gold coins clutched to his thin chest. The crowd were still chattering excitedly amongst themselves and Morgana realised Uther was looking at her.

For a moment everything swam in front of her and she could see Gwen's concerned face come closer to her own.

"Morgana?"

Then her hands curled into fists at her sides and she stood up and silently left the royal box as though nothing had happened.

Three hours later (having stewed her anger until it was at a low continual simmer) there was a knock at Morgana's chamber door. She yanked it open unceremoniously, only to see Arthur on the other side.

"I've come for my tunic," he announced abruptly.

Taking a calming breath she tried to make her tone as mild as possible. "I'm afraid it's being washed, so if you want it you'll have to go down to the laundry rooms."

"Fine." He hesitated as though he wanted to say something else, thought better of it and turned on his heel.

Something inside of Morgana snapped. "It was a tournament, Arthur; you didn't have to beat him up."

He spun back on his heel, his eyes dark and furious. "Oh, so you've been and checked on him then have you?"

"Of course I have, he was my champion, and he is my friend." Morgana's fury rose up like a silent tidal wave inside of her as Arthur scoffed. "You broke his nose!"

"He's a grown man, Morgana. If he can't take it then he's not worthy of being a knight."

She pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to calm her frustration and failing. "Could you remove your head from your arse for a moment?"

"You were the one saying you didn't want to marry him." He smacked the doorframe with a fist. "Now all of a sudden he's feeding you fruit, you're giving him tokens-"

"Giving me sweetmeats is hardly a declaration of love, Arthur. And it was one token, thank you."

Arthur snorted. "You must know what it looks like."

"You almost sound jealous," said Morgana tartly, her arms crossed. "Is that what that display was about earlier? You marking your territory? You might as well have cocked your leg and pissed round me for everyone to see."

A passing servant scurried past blushing.

Morgana lowered her voice. "Why don't you just come out and say it? You don't like Thaniel because he likes me."

"It's not a matter of liking him. I just hope you know what you're getting yourself into, Morgana."

"You have the nerve to warn me?" Morgana's scorn was scalding. "Out of the two of us, you're the one who's twice been under a love spell, proposed marriage and nearly caused a war. Not to mention the countless servants you've bedded, and foreign princesses you've courted." She jabbed a finger in his chest deliberately, knowing he would be bruised from where Thaniel had hit him in their match. She was rewarded when he winced. "So don't you dare lecture me, Arthur Pendragon. You have no right."

Arthur sighed and dropped his fist from the doorframe.

Which is when Morgana slammed the door in his face.

When Gwen knocked tentatively an hour later she found Morgana pacing up and down her room like a caged lioness, muttering to herself.

"Insufferable, obnoxious, irritating man."

"The um…discussion between you and Prince Arthur didn't go well then?" Gwen hovered in the doorway, a basket of neatly laundered clothes under one arm.

"I suppose the whole castle knows, doesn't it?"

Gwen nodded hesitantly. "You were quite loud."

Morgana threw herself down on her bed and groaned. "Fantastic. My day is now complete."

Gwen successfully hid a smile and set the basket down on the dressing table, beginning to carefully unpack. "He cares about you. I think he doesn't want to see you hurt."

"When did you join the Arthur fan club?"

Gwen rolled her eyes. "I haven't. But he does have a point."

"Not you too. We both know I can take care of myself."

"Morgana," Gwen caught her gaze in the looking glass. "I would hate to see you married to a man you didn't truly love. You'd both end up being miserable."

"Gwen, no-one's mentioned marriage. Thaniel's only known been here two weeks, for goodness sake."

"But he is courting you," she countered.

"And what's wrong with that? He's kind, handsome, funny, and generous. He listens to my opinions. He doesn't patronise me."

"But he's not Arthur." Gwen paused and her eyes strayed to the bed. "We both know you've been wearing his shirt to sleep in."

"It's comfortable," Morgana protested weakly. At Gwen's upraised eyebrow she caved, a sardonic smile curving her lips. "Tell him it's been lost if he does go looking for it in the laundry rooms, though I doubt he will. He's too proud to go and hunt down one lost shirt." Morgana sighed and picked at a loose thread on her bedcover. "I can't win. When a man shows interest in me, Arthur becomes jealous. He's angry, irrational, and very poor company. And then when they leave (and they always do) Arthur pretends it never happened and shows barely any interest in my existence."

"I wish I could do something to help."

"He's a man; there's no cure for it I'm afraid." Morgana smiled sadly at her friend and shook her head. "I tell you what though; you can help me take my mind off things by letting me help to put away my clothes."

Gwen shrugged and handed her a pile of neatly folded silk dresses. "Go ahead."

Morgana picked the first one up and aired the creamy satin folds out, fixing it on a hook inside the wardrobe before reaching for the next one. She pulled the dark burgundy silk up against her and gently shook it so that the wrinkles fell out.

A piece of folded parchment floated to the floor. Curious, she bent down and picked it up, folding the paper out until she could read the script scrawled on it.

Meet me by the lake. Midnight tonight.

Come alone.

She crumpled the note, slipping it up her sleeve as Gwen turned round.

Please Read and Review!

Reviews = love = world peace.

Maybe.

P.S The trailer for the new season is now up and it looks very exciting!

Though on the downside the writers seem determined to make Morgana bad. But hey ho. In fanfic she can be whatever we like :)

Bring on next Saturday!