Like Lust

Two

'Knows Everybody's Disapproval'

When she got to the castle it was daylight. Albeit gray and rainy, it was daylight nonetheless. Her black dress with the lace torn and tattered felt unfitting without the benefit of the darkness, and for the first time in a long time she felt like the hated outcast that she had been all those years ago. She had left Camelot in fine silk—a beautiful green that she swore she deserved. But the feeling of entitlement got torn away as the dress snagged on bushes and fallen branches, turning her into a child of the forest and no longer a lady at court. She had never worn green since that day. It only reminded her of being banished to the forest with nothing but her two feet and a small sack of food. The memory ravished the hope that had been growing inside her since Arthur agreed to lift her exile. She approached the grand doors of the castle, and scraped a long fingernail over the wooden and iron structure. Her eyes flickered to the guard who was standing watch to her right.

"Well, are you going to open the door, or does a lady have to do it herself?" Her tone was harsh, full of bristles and shadows and a deep indignation for the supposedly grand land of Camelot.

The guard's lacking stance quickly became straight and polished, and he nodded, feigning respect.

"Welcome," the guard said rather timidly as he opened the castle door for her. The sound of her shoes hitting the stone floor echoed in the hallway, and the train of her dress seemed to scorch the ground it touched. She saw the eyes on her, and felt their glares. Guards and servants alike knew the tale of Morgana Le Fay and her banishment from Camelot. A part of her wanted to show them exactly why they were right to fear her, but in this moment, while she felt so small compared to the towering walls, she knew it was judgement and not fear that they had for her. Her dress felt too tight and revealing, and her hair, she knew, was anything but graceful. She couldn't resist the urge to cross her arms for some sense of protection. The men she passed raised eyebrows at her and followed her passing form with tempted eyes. She wished that Arthur was here to greet her, and quickly dropped her arms to her side.

She made her way to her old quarters. The only place her distracted mind could think to take her.

"You lifted her exile?" Gwen's voice was tight and unforgiving as she approached her husband in the council room. Arthur dropped his feather pen on the large table, running a hand through his hair.

"I did," he replied. His eyes never left his paper. He heard Gwen's furious footsteps as she came closer. Arthur knew that inviting Morgana back would not be easy.

"Why, Arthur?" she stopped in front of his chair, looming over him. "After everything she put us through all those years ago, you bring her back to court? How did you know where she was?" Each question was another pin in the already tattered balloon of Arthur's integrity.

"Time changes people, and Morgana is not the same woman she was."

Gwen sat down next to Arthur, wrapping a hand around his wrist. "I know you two have a past, Arthur. I worked in the castle long enough to hear the rumors. But I would hope for the sake of the sanctity of our marriage," she paused. "And for me, that you would not resume any relations with her." Arthur knew what Gwen was prodding at, and if he were an honest man he would tell her the truth. But Morgana's touch came back to him and suddenly Gwen's hand on his body made him ill.

"Yes, Gwen, we are old friends. Which is why I asked one of my men to track her down and offer her residence once more in the castle. I would hope that you would trust me. Not only as your husband, but as your king. It is in my best interest to settle old qualms. Fate doesn't bode well for kings who hold grudges."

Gwen sighed, nodding slightly. He could see her yes softening but the wariness remain. "I don't trust her, Arthur. She is a witch. A witch who tried to take your father's crown. We fought her together. I just don't understand how that can be forgiven."

"With much thought and reservation," Arthur concocted quickly. The truth of the matter was that even back then, even while Morgana's followers stormed the castle, she and Arthur were still lovers. Their love back then had been electric. But circumstance had not been kind to them.

"Please," Arthur continued, the lump of guilt in his stomach growing heavier, "trust me." He placed a hand softly on her cheek and smiled. Gwen kissed his hand in return.

"I do," she said. "Just be careful."

Arthur agreed with a nod. "I have to finish this letter," he said gesturing to the parchment in front of him. With one last pat on the hand, Gwen stood up and took her leave. Arthur watched her go and once the door was closed he let out a long breath he didn't even know he'd been holding.

The world around him didn't seem real. He didn't seem real. Growing up the last thing Arthur wanted to be was a liar and a cheater. He had had grand dreams of being a great and just king; a king whose followers respected him for the respect he showed them. But he was jeopardizing all of it for her. He put his head on the table, hoping that the darkness would calm his mind.

"Your Grace," a voice said from the servant's entrance. Arthur lifted his head heavily. "The Lady Morgana has requested your presence in her old chambers."

"Thank you," Arthur said, rising from his seat. His heart couldn't help but flutter.

He made his way eagerly up the stairs to her. He had never occupied her rooms once she left, and Arthur had convinced his father to leave her things intact, silently hoping that she would return one day.

He knocked on her door rather excitedly, and immediately it opened. He was about to throw himself on her, when a servant walked by. Immediately his posture became rigid and his face cold. "Lady Morgana," he said with a light bow, "I hope your arrangements here are suitable." Turning slightly, he watched the servant turn the corner.

"Very suitable," Morgana said, tugging on his robe and pulling him into the room. She wasted no time with pleasantries and slammed the door shut with Arthur's body, pressing him into the wood with a deep kiss.

"You know," she whispered into his ear softly, "this is the first time in some years we've access to a bed."