The day was dark and overcast, and Merlin was balanced precariously in the stables while he rifled through a saddle bag. Arthur had informed his servant that after his patrol one of the stable boys had lost his dagger and he'd promptly demanded that the warlock find it for him.
Merlin hadn't minded the request for once as he was just grateful to finally be of use again. After having been laid up for two weeks and not being allowed to do much of anything, the boy had finally convinced the prince—and his guardian—to let him go back to work.
His ribs still ached, and while a fair amount of bruising remained, they were more or less fine. The only trouble that hindered him was his leg. The limb was still tightly wrapped to keep it as stationary as possible, but the bandages were easily hidden beneath a pair of oversized trousers and a partially unlaced boot. A fact that Merlin was more than a little pleased about.
As for getting around, that had proved a bit more difficult, but one crafted walking staff later and the warlock was once again mobile. Merlin had been limping around the citadel for a few days already, and once Arthur had grown accustomed to his slower pace, the two had more or less returned to their normal routine. There were still some things that the boy was unable to do, but the other servants had managed to fill in for him, and with each passing day Merlin was getting closer to being fully recovered.
In the beginning he'd planned to heal it with magic, but Gaius had immediately put a stop to that idea. Not only had several people seen how damaged it was, but many others had later heard about the accident. And though healing himself would get rid of the pain and strife that followed trying to use it, his guardian had pointed out that too many would be suspicious of such a sudden and miraculous recovery.
Closing up the third saddle bag he'd checked, Merlin frowned at the ground in thought. Grabbing hold of his staff and turning to alleviate some of the weight put on the injured limb, the warlock sought out any of the stable hands.
Arthur hadn't bothered to tell him which of them had aided him that morning, so the boy had been left to search through everything until one of them appeared. Unfortunately for him, they all seemed to be elsewhere, and the stables were empty aside from himself and the horses.
Making his way over to another bag that was hanging on the wall, Merlin had just started to reach for it when one of the doors to the stable opened and the sound of heavy breathing drifted inside. One of the horses nickered, and the warlock edged around the corner and caught sight of Morgana.
The woman's fists were balled tight, her face was red, and she was pacing back and forth in an agitated manner. The rain must have started up again because he could see dark spots dotting across the shoulders of her dress while water clung to her hair. Something had clearly happened to make her upset, and he watched as Morgana began to mutter quietly to herself while glaring at nothing.
Limping slowly out into the open, Merlin leaned against his staff and offered a smile when the woman's head shot up, furious green eyes settling on him. Shock replaced the anger just a moment before the king's ward was looking away, a sharp intake of breath coming from her as Merlin stopped a few paces away.
"I'm sorry, I didn't realize anyone was in here." She murmured, reaching up a hand and smoothing down her hair. She had yet to look back up at him, and the warlock leaned a fraction closer.
"Arthur sent me on a search for his missing dagger." He explained, though he received no reaction. "Are you alright?" He questioned as Morgana stiffened.
"I'm fine." She answered tersely, and Merlin's head tilted as her hands wrapped tightly around her arms.
"Are you sure?" Taking another step forward, the boy gave a small shrug. "If something happened, you can tell me. If you want."
Morgana's head turned at that, and green eyes studied him intently before she finally spoke. "Uther is such a hypocrite; do you know that?" Merlin's eyes widened at the sudden declaration, and the boy stared with an open mouth as the woman's hands fell to her sides. "He is so determined to hate anything that pertains to magic that he doesn't even care if he takes an innocent life in the process! He doesn't even see that what he's doing is destroying any hope that this kingdom might have!"
The warlock was speechless, his jaw working up and down though no words would come out. After all, what could he even say to that? She was absolutely correct.
"Do you know what he's doing right this minute?" Morgana asked, spinning around and facing him, her eyes bright with fury. "He is sitting in court with someone who helped a druid cross our border. They didn't do anything, they weren't hurting anyone, they just wanted to be safe! But he's going to sentence that man to death just because he had the decency to try and protect an innocent life!"
Morgana's voice cracked and she looked to the ground, her hands forming fists once again. "Ever since Arthur found me, after they thought I was kidnapped, Uther has had it out for anything, or anyone even remotely associated with magic. It's as if his hatred has completely blinded him from having compassion or mercy."
She was full on ranting and had begun to pace again as Merlin's eyes flickered warily to the doors. He agreed with everything that she was saying, but the last thing that either of them needed was for someone to catch them discussing the disagreements they had with the king.
"All those innocent lives, all those people torn away from their families and their loved ones, and he doesn't care! All Uther sees is magic. They could be healers, or they could be helping people, and it wouldn't matter to him. All of it is evil, and it's as if he's taken it upon himself to destroy every last trace." Closing her eyes, Morgana paused, her hands reaching out and pressing flat against a wall.
"What would he say if he knew?" She asked softly, and Merlin took another step closer to hear her. "What would he do if he knew what I was? What I am capable of? What I.. what I am?"
"Morgana." Merlin said her name in warning, his tone staying low as the woman looked up, hurt and fear replacing the anger that had once flooded her eyes.
"Everyone in this kingdom, Merlin, everyone has become sick with his hatred. Everyone is so biased against magic. No one will ever come to accept it, not ever. Not like this at least, not with Uther ruling."
The warlock stood frozen, his fingers tightening around the staff that helped him to stand. What could he say? He had hope that things would change. He had hope that what he'd been told was true and that Arthur would return magic to the land one day. But right now? It was no wonder Morgana had lost her own hope because she was right. Uther had been destroying every last bit of magic he came across, all while poisoning the people to do the same.
"How many people would hate me if they learned of me? How many would throw me to the fire because they're terrified of what I might do? Or of what Uther might do if he learned they knew? It hurts, Merlin. To know that I'm hated for something I can't control. For something that is a part of who I am."
Swallowing past the lump rising in his throat, Merlin felt a weight settle in his stomach. Hated for who he was. Thrown to the fire for what he could do. Everything she said, all of it rang with truth. And she was right, it hurt.
"Morgana.." Trailing off, Merlin's heart began to beat faster as a single, dangerous thought crossed his mind. What if he told her? What if he admitted to what he was and what he knew?
Green eyes blinked at him in curiosity, and Merlin found himself choking back his words. If he admitted what he was, then it could help her. It could ease the hurt and maybe even give her hope. But he couldn't do it.
Something held him back, and a different series of words came out instead. "Not everyone here is like that."
Blinking again, Morgana's head fell, and she sighed. "I know. I still cannot thank you enough for keeping my secret, Merlin. For trying to help me when no one else would dare. You're a good friend."
The words stung, and the warlock fought against the urge that had risen once again. Was he a good friend? Wouldn't a good friend be someone who would confide in her?
"I'm sorry for getting so upset." Morgana apologized, dragging her fingers across her forehead and turning until she was leaning back against the wall. "With all the rain I've been inside for far too long. Being stuck in such close quarters and listening to Uther talk, well, I think it was beginning to drive me mad."
"I can't imagine." Merlin mumbled, an ache that began in his leg fighting for his attention over his inward battle.
"I've never seen it storm this much before. I never cared much for the rain anyway, but this has made me almost hate it." A small frown drew down the corners of the woman's lips, and the warlock shifted awkwardly where he stood in an attempt to lessen the pain.
"You don't care for the rain?" He asked, trying to force his mind away from their previous topic. "Even as a child?"
"What do you mean?" Morgana asked, looking at the boy with furrowed brows.
"You never had fun playing out in the rain?" The king's ward stared blankly at Merlin for his question, and the warlock narrowed his eyes. "Not even with friends?"
At that, the woman almost laughed, her hands pressing down against her skirts as she shook her head. "I didn't exactly have many friends. Uther was very strict about who I was allowed to be around. He frowned upon my keeping company with anyone who was not of my standing."
Another strike of irritation towards the king welled up in the boy, but Merlin shoved it aside in favor of his next question. "Did you ever play with Arthur?"
That time a laugh did leave Morgana, her shoulders shaking with the motion. "Arthur didn't play, he trained. That's all he ever did. Honestly, I think that's all he was ever allowed to do."
Merlin couldn't help but stare, his mind trying to wrap around the image of a young Arthur doing nothing but drills with the knights and practicing his sword fighting all day. There was something sad about that, and lonely.
"Did you?" Morgana's voice drew him back, and the warlock looked up at her. "Play in the rain, I mean."
"Yeah," Merlin nodded, a small smile rising to the boy's lips at the memory. "Will and I did, all the time. Whenever it rained we were out in it."
"That must have been nice." Morgana sighed, lifting a hand and gesturing around them. "Living with royalty isn't all it seems when you're kept locked away and have your every move watched."
Shifting backwards as another spike of pain shot through his leg, Merlin tapped his fingers along the edge of his staff. "I didn't grow up in a castle, or with wealth. We didn't really have a lot in Ealdor, and we struggled for what we did have. But we had each other, and that was enough."
Merlin loved Camelot. He loved living with Gaius and being a part of the bustling kingdom, and the boy readily called it home. But he loved Ealdor too. Each was unaware of his magic, and he knew each would treat him differently because of it, but there were unreplaceable things in both, and one of the things for Ealdor were the memories.
"Sometimes I wish I had something like that." Morgana's voice was soft, and her eyes were on the ground. "That I had those sorts of memories."
Turning away from her, Merlin looked outside at where the rain continued to fall in a light mist, and an idea came to mind. "Make some now."
"Make what now?" Confusion morphed the woman's features, but the warlock had started grinning.
"Memories. Make them now. Go play in the rain."
Morgana's mouth fell open at that, and a quiet scoff left her. "I can't do that."
"Why not?" Taking a step towards the doors, Merlin arched a brow at her.
"What would people think?"
"What people?" He kept walking until he stood just inside the stables and gestured a hand towards the partially open door. "You said it yourself, the king is in court. Who is around to say anything? The stable hands? Because they won't say a word. Come on."
"I can't. We can't." She shook her head, though he could see a smile fighting to rise on her face.
"Why not?" The boy asked again.
"You're still injured." Morgana said slowly, but she had pushed away from the wall.
"I'm recovering."
"Gaius will have a fit if you return drenched." She stated, taking a hesitant step closer.
"Let him have a fit then." The warlock shrugged.
"Merlin—" Pushing open the door the rest of the way before she could finish, Merlin stepped outside, feeling the cold rain hit his skin as Morgana's hands rose to her face to smother a laugh. "You're mad!" She shouted as the boy threw out his arms and stumbled back a step.
"Come on! I know you want to!"
Laughing harder, Morgana stood just inside the doors and stared out at him. Stretching out his hand to her, the woman hesitated before she took hold and let him pull her out beside him.
"How are you even supposed to play in the rain?" She asked, flinching as water hit her face.
Taking another step back and positioning his weight carefully against his staff, Merlin glanced around. "Well, you.. you splash in the puddles."
"Splash in the puddles?" She repeated, staring at him as if he really were mentally ill. "I'll get my dress muddy." Morgana's hands fell to her skirts while pieces of her dress began to darken from the raindrops seeping into the fabric.
"Really?" Merlin scoffed, shaking his head. "You're not worried about the mud."
"Oh?" She asked, hugging her arms around herself.
"You're still worried about what people will think of you."
"And how do you know that?" Arching a curious brow at the warlock, Merlin smirked.
"Morgana, I've seen you swordfight with bandits. You've run away from people who kidnapped you. A little mud wouldn't stop you from doing something you want to do." The woman's mouth opened, but when nothing came out, the boy jumped in again.
"Just forget about everything." Merlin said, motioning around at the courtyard that was mostly empty. "Forget about your standing, forget about what people might think. Forget for a moment that you're the king's ward, and just have fun."
Wide green eyes stared back in silence before Morgana was breaking out into a bewildered smile. "You're a terrible influence, Merlin."
"Me?" He asked, lifting his brows and feigning surprise. "No, I'm not any sort of influence. I'm just a servant." He shrugged, as if the very idea were impossible.
"Well," Morgana murmured, taking a step closer to him. "I think you're much more than that." A smile appeared on his face at her words, and he stood frozen while the rain stuck his hair against his face. "You're also right. So, splashing it is."
Stepping away from the warlock, Morgana looked around them while she walked a few paces away to where a decent sized puddle resided. Turning to face him, the king's ward let out a breath and jumped, her feet landing in the middle of the gathering rainwater and sending muddy drops all around her.
A loud laugh left the woman as she pulled up her skirts and looked down at the splotches of mud that painted her ankles. "This is ridiculous!" She laughed harder, kicking one of her legs out and sending a spray of water towards Merlin.
"But it's fun, isn't it? Just to let go?" He grinned, watching while the woman spun around and made her dress twirl, water flying out away from her as she did.
"It's wonderful." Morgana admitted, reaching up her hands and pulling the pins free from her hair until it fell in waves around her shoulders, partially wet and sticking to her face and neck.
Cupping her hands together and letting the rain pool between her palms, a devious smile flashed in Merlin's direction moments before water was being thrown at him. Her aim was immaculate as the rain hit the warlock right in the face and left the boy sputtering.
A joyful laugh echoed from Morgana, and as Merlin ran a hand across his forehead, he watched while the king's ward began to dance in the rain. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen her so carefree, and he found that his eyes were glued to her.
The same urge as before began to rise again, and Merlin struggled against the temptation to tell her the truth about him. She was different. He knew she was different, so couldn't he trust her? The idea of sharing his secret with someone was so enticing, and Merlin subconsciously took a step closer as the woman continued to twirl with her arms outstretched. He had Gaius to confide in, but with Morgana it felt different, and the longer he watched her, the harder the decision became.
All of a sudden the woman's twirling turned into a stumble as her foot snagged a stone, and Morgana was falling forward. Instinctively moving closer, Merlin caught hold of her arms and steadied her as she crashed against him, her hands grabbing his shoulders for balance.
Morgana looked up in surprise, as if she couldn't believe she had tripped, and wide green hues stared back at him. Her breaths fell out fast and shallow, and her eyes were bright and alive despite the gloom of the world around them.
"Sorry." She murmured, her fingers tightening around his shoulders while the boy kept a firm grasp on her forearms.
The king's ward had managed to right herself, but she was still staring at him in a way he could not even begin to fathom. Long strands of her hair were plastered against her cheeks, and her lips were barely parted as she caught her breath.
"Morgana, there's something that I want to tell you." Merlin said quietly, and the woman's head tilted to the side in curiosity.
"What is it?"
"I—"
"Merlin!" Arthur's voice cut off the warlock's words and the both of them froze, looking behind them where they could just see the prince leaving the citadel.
"Nothing lasts forever." The boy murmured, letting go of Morgana and turning towards the royal.
"Come on." The king's ward whispered, and the boy was looking back in confusion when she took hold of his hand.
"What—"
"Come on!" Pulling at him, Morgana took off back to the stables with Merlin stumbling after her. He barely managed to keep his feet beneath him as he staggered into the building and heard one of the horses nicker at their appearance.
"Merlin!"
The woman kept pulling the boy along until they were hiding behind a mound of riding equipment. Morgana crouched to the ground while Merlin ever so gracefully fell on his backside behind a short wall.
"He sounds irritated." She mused, peering around the equipment as the warlock frowned at the hay that had started sticking to their wet clothes.
"He's always irritated." He muttered without thinking, catching the woman's stare before he rolled his eyes. "He's incapable of doing anything without me, even for a few minutes."
"Merlin!" Arthur's shouting grew closer, and they both fell silent as the doors to the stables opened. "You useless, good for nothing servant. Where the hell have you gone and limped off to?" The blond's voice was filled with frustration, and Merlin's breath caught when the prince's shadow came into view.
It would be bad enough to be caught slacking off, but to be hiding in the stables with Morgana was something he didn't think Arthur would be willing to hear out. After another minute of the man searching through the building, the royal stalked back outside, and the doors were slamming shut seconds before Morgana started laughing.
The woman's head fell into her hands as she tried to smother the giggles, but the sound was infectious, and Merlin found himself grinning. "Are you alright?" He asked after several moments passed and the king's ward had yet to stop shaking.
"I ought to be asking you that." Morgana sighed, calming herself down and sitting up enough to run her fingers through her hair. "How is your leg?"
Reaching a hand down to his throbbing limb, Merlin merely shrugged. "It's alright."
Peeking briefly around the edge of the wall that hid the two of them, the woman sat down fully and leaned her head back against the wood. "I don't know how you do it, Merlin."
"Do what, anger Arthur?" He questioned, carefully stretching out his leg. "It's really not that hard."
"No," She laughed again. "You make everything so.." Pausing, Morgana turned her head and looked at him, her dark hair framing her face.
"So what?" Merlin asked, breaking her thoughtful silence as one of her shoulders moved with a shrug.
"So much lighter." Her words silenced anything the warlock might have said, and Merlin stared while the woman smoothed down her clothes. "I came in here so upset, and now I feel so much better." Leaning forward suddenly, Morgana braced her arms against her knees and stared at him. "I may have magic, Merlin, but I think you have a bit of your own as well."
He didn't have the words. He had nothing to say at all, his mind couldn't even formulate a thought to what she had said. The only thought that was at the front of his mind was about a single piece of hay that was caught in the woman's hair, and that the small strands that had stuck to her face were just beginning to curl.
A few seconds passed in a quiet, contemplative fashion, and the warlock realized too late that Morgana was waiting for him to respond. But how was he supposed to do that? By saying thanks? By admitting that she was right, but not in the way she'd meant? He was running through the list of possibilities when footsteps approached the stables again, and the both of them were once again catching their breath.
"Morgana! My Lady, are you out here?" Gwen's voice echoed from outside, and Morgana's head fell.
"I stormed off earlier without telling her where I'd be." She explained softly, pushing herself up from the ground and brushing her hands down her skirts in an attempt to clean them. "That didn't help much, did it?" She sighed, turning back and forth as if to see if any hay still lingered.
"It looks alright." Merlin finally mustered, catching her eye as her smile returned.
"Do you need help to stand, or to get back?"
"No," He shook his head. "I'm fine."
Nodding, Morgana took a step back and brushed her tangled hair back behind her shoulder before she was standing straighter. Even with mud and hay clinging to her, she continued to exude a sort of elegance. He supposed forgetting her standing would never really be possible, at least not for more than a few minutes.
"Thank you, Merlin." Morgana's voice was soft and sweet as she said the words, her back turning to him as she stepped around the equipment and out of sight.
He listened to the doors close behind her as she left, and Merlin's head fell back against the side of a stall. "It was my pleasure." He spoke aloud, his fingers curling around his staff.
Glancing down at himself and grimacing, Merlin pulled a piece of hay off his sleeve. Gaius was sure to have his head when he saw him. Then again..
Looking back to where Morgana had been sitting, Merlin could still feel her warmth beside him, and his smile slowly returned. Maybe it really had been worth it in the end.
A/N
That moment when I know I won't get to write them being adorable for much longer.. They're just so sweet and I feel like her and Merlin would've been great ;-;
Anyway, have some FLUFF! I don't often write just pure adorableness, but I felt it was needed after the angst session last chapter.. Which do you guys prefer? One over the other, or a mix? Let me know!
I hope you all enjoyed and thank you for reading! I would love to hear from you, so leave me a comment! And let me know if there's anything in particular you would like to see in upcoming chapters ^-^
