Title: Stay With Me
Character/s: Merlin, Morgana
Summary: Merlin visits Morgana at the end of 2.3 and received an unexpected request.
Word Count: 593
Prompt: #175 Stay
Author's Notes: Can I get comments? :)
Merlin approached Morgana’s door with some trepidation. He had no idea how she’d react to seeing him at her door, considering what had happened in the forest. He’d imagined up all sorts of scenarios in his head and he made out well in none of them. The fact that she might be in bed or asleep never crossed his mind—he had something to say and he needed to say it.
He knocked and waited, almost hoping she’d ignore him, but at last the door opened and he was confronted with the Lady Morgana herself.
“Merlin,” she said in mild surprise.
“My Lady.” He bowed his head briefly, deferentially. She let him in and closed the door. “I wanted to check you were okay,” he added.
“I'm fine. What was said at the woods . . .”
She seemed uncertain how to end that statement, so he helped her out. “You can trust me, Morgana. I won't tell anyone.”
“Thank you, Merlin. I know now who I really am. And it isn't something to be scared of. Maybe one day people will come to see magic as a force for good.” She sounded stronger, more sure of herself.
Maybe I made the right decision after all. “Um . . . It's good to have you back.”
“Thank you, Merlin.” He turned but her voice called him back. “Um, Merlin?”
He turned back around to face her. “Yes, milady?”
“Stay with me?”
“Milady . . .”
“I know what you’re thinking—that it’s highly inappropriate. But . . . I don’t want to be alone tonight.”
He looked at her and tried to read in between the lines. Her eyes were shadowed, her mouth pulled down into a frown and she was wringing her hands. When he looked into those eyes, he saw her vulnerable pleading. “All right.”
“Thank you,” she said fervently. He was surprised at the depth of her relief.
She walked back to her bed while he pulled a chair from her table to her bedside. “So . . . are you going to try to sleep or . . . what do you want to do?” he queried.
“Can we talk for a little while?”
They talked for a little while about what Aglain, the druid who’d been in charge of the camp, had told her. While she was talking, she reached for his hand which rested on her bed. He nearly pulled away from the contact, but realized it had been subconscious on her part, so he let it be.
Finally, after about an hour, Morgana yawned. “Feeling tired yet?” he asked.
She chuckled briefly. “Yes, but . . . would you stay until I’m asleep?”
She settled deeper into the covers and sighed. “Thank you again, Merlin.”
“It’s no problem, milady.”
He watched as she closed her eyes. After a few minutes her face relaxed and her breathing evened out. He waited a couple more minutes, just enjoying how peaceful she looked when she slept—free of her prophetic dreams for the moment.
Her hand relaxed and he gently pulled his from it. He stood and almost turned, but saw a lock of hair in her face. He was overcome with the impulse to brush it aside, and didn’t fight it. Once that was done, he also couldn’t resist kissing that perfect pale forehead. Then, feeling guilty for liberties taken, he turned and quietly exited.
He didn’t know, until much later, that Morgana had felt that brush and that kiss and smiled in her sleep.