Burns Too Bright, Lives Too Fast

"So, we still haven't gotten to the matter of what you were thinking," Arthur said, ever so kindly, as he barged into Morgana's rooms. He'd been trying to reach her since the debacle last week, but Uther had fussed and Gwen had fussed and everyone in the bloody castle had fussed over Morgana when really, she'd earned a good shouting-at.

Which was exactly what Arthur did, given the chance. He yelled at her about running off like that, about running to the bloody druids - was she trying to get Uther to exterminate every remaining magic user in the kingdom? He yelled about safety and Merlin and couldn't she have just waited until they'd gotten back and maybe Merlin would have been able to help her--

And then there may, yes, have been some fussing.

Morgana, apparently, had magic.

Arthur, apparently, now had two people to lie for and to shelter.

Though maybe-- just maybe-- one day he could ease the idea of Morgana into father's mind. Maybe she was the thing he'd been hoping for, to change Uther's mind at last.

But it was a little early to risk it just yet.

"Don't," he said, at last, "Don't ever do that again."

He didn't stay and examine the expression on her face. He just left. He'd had to kill four druids last week, four brave men who stayed behind to distract the incoming army while their fellows fled (or so he assumed; the druids had broken their camp down well when he arrived, and all the better for it. There would be no awkward explanations to father.)

And four had been more than enough. More than too much, if you asked Arthur about it.

He wasn't planning on giving anyone the chance.

[[ alphabet soup goes here. ]]