tinyprat | (no subject)

WHO: Arthur Pendragon and Morgana
WHEN: Middle of the damn night, like two years after she arrived in Camelot
WHERE: Arthur's room

The prince liked his sleep. Everyone in the castle knew that. He'd never been one to get up with the sun, and almost always, a servant had to come and shake his shoulder an hour or two after dawn to draw him from his bed. Said servant never got any thanks for it but an earful of grumbling instead. He must have gotten it from his mother because his father was up every day before dawn without anyone having to wake him and Arthur could never understand how, since the king went to bed way later than he did every night too.

Arthur had started a game in the last year, played only against himself, to see if he could stay up as late as his father every night. He almost always failed, except for one night when a messenger had ridden in right as the prince's forehead was about to meet the table, and after a hushed discussion, Uther and a band of knights had ridden out an hour later. Arthur didn't sleep much at all that particular night.

But at least he stayed up longer than Morgana, which was the next best thing to matching his father's schedule. If he couldn't be his father right now (and that was a goal that he strove for every day) then he could at least be better than her. The king doted on his new ward and it had been a sore point for the prince for months until Gaius had shamed him for complaining. Morgana had none of her family left and couldn't even stay in her home. Arthur had his father and a kingdom and he might even have a friend if he got over his pride. It still made him sulk with jealousy and look for ways to beat her when his father paid attention to Morgana but the prince made an effort to be nicer to her.

So anyway, Arthur was sound asleep at the moment earlier than usual for him, turned on his stomach and snoring softly in his pillow. Training all day with the knights was a relatively new development in his life. He'd played with swords as a small child and had practiced against younger knights for a couple hours a day but ever since he turned ten, the king had demanded his training increase and the result was an exhausted ten year old, sporting a collection of bruises who was even more of an angry bear at being woken up than he had been before.

Threaded | Flat

Morgana was fairly certain that he was a bear all the time. At least, he'd certainly seemed that way - a bear, or petulant, pouty boy. He was stupid and mean, and she didn't like him.

Most of the time.

He'd been better, of late, less angry with her for no reason, less frustrating. But he still played games with her that she didn't know she was playing, still smirked when she hadn't realized she lost, and most of all, he was the most infuriating person she'd ever met. But when she woke up in the middle of the night, eyes wide and wet, her teeth clamped down around her lip to keep from screaming, she slid out of bed and fled her room. Her feet pattered on cold stone as she walked down the hall, fighting the urge to run.

If this was Cornwall, if this was the castle she'd grown up in, she would have gone to her father's room. She would have crawled in next to him and buried her face in his chest, and he would have brushed her hair and told her it was only a dream, there was nothing to fear, he would always protect her.

But he couldn't, now. He hadn't been able to protect himself. Morgana choked back a sob, and rubbed her eyes as her vision blurred. She paused at a fork in the hall. To the left, she'd find Uther. To the right, Arthur. She didn't even have to think about it.

Arthur was just a boy who'd barely started his training, he could protect her as well as she could protect herself - but Uther was the one who'd let her father die, and she couldn't forgive him.

Opening Arthur's door and closing it as quietly as she good, Morgana wiped her eyes again, but they would not stop running. It had been so awful, and so real, and she didn't want to think about it, but it wouldn't leave her alone.

"Arthur," she whispered, standing at the side of his bed. But he didn't wake, because he was stupid and never woke on time, so she pushed aside the blankets and crawled under them, curling up beside him.