[complete/closed] Characters: Morgan (nobreza) & Troilus (apromisedglory) Date/Time: February 24th Location: Morgan's rooms, Mictlan Rating: PG-13 Warnings: none. Summary: The right-hand needs to vent. A soldier is willing to listen.
Since the departure of the Camlannian ladies, Troilus had been in high spirits. He wouldn't be Polyxena's soldier, wouldn't have to witness her marriage and the eventual births of her children with Arthur. Things were good in that corner.
Not so much with others and he could tell. Something unpleasant had to have happened to make the two leave suddenly. But rather than visit Arthur or Lancelot, he opted to see Morgan. Among all, he was closest to her.
Her rooms were the first place he could check after catching sight of her on her balcony. Upon entering, he silently made his way to the balcony where he finally tapped on the door to alert her of his presence.
The lack of her brother’s marriage hadn’t bothered her. She had had the choice to follow her own choices so it was obvious she wouldn’t begrudge Arthur’s wish to do the same. In the same way, while Elaine seemed a really nice person, that was another marriage who didn’t have to happen. The reasons for her current feelings were slightly different.
Arthur was her brother. Her twin brother. The person she cared for the most in her life, brother complex or not. To have them hiding something as important as a relationship from her made her… the word hurt had come to mind more than once. She was being ridiculous, of course. It wasn’t like she told him of her every dalliance. Right?
That was the reason why Morgan had isolated herself for some hours, leaving her work unfinished and thinking of the best way to resolve a situation. Or, if she wanted to be completely honest (which she didn’t), to think in what steps to take to patch up things with her brother. God knew he would need help. Still, as deep in her wayward thoughts, she still sketched a smile when attention was diverted, not bothering to lower her legs from the extra chair which was serving as support.
“Felt lonely?”
He hadn't and though he could lie to her, he didn't favour that option. "No, but I thought you might be feeling up to having my brilliant company," he offered as he came to her side. Hands clasped behind his back, he rocked slightly on his heels, finding he didn't want to sit anywhere just yet.
"You've been here a while, I noticed. Why?"
“I could do with some of it. Though if you are in a greater mood, dearest, you might compete with my handmaiden. Haven’t seen her frown since the day she was brought to me.” It was the way she worked, speaking normally about things that didn’t really matter whenever her own state wasn’t exactly spotless. Of course, Troilus would pick up on that. Funny, for two people who had been firmly against getting married, they got along strangely well.
She gave him a small smile, one step away from being strained. “Taking some time for me. Haven’t managed lately with everything that went down.”
It had just been bad timing for him. If it hadn't, they would have likely gotten married though little else would have changed. He would have remained a soldier and she the right-hand.
"I'm prettier than her, so I win automatically," he declared, lifting a brow. Then he finally knelt down beside her. "Have you spoken with Arthur, pretty? Face to face?"
“You have better hair.” Her hand slipped into his hair, ruffling it gently under her fingers while she grinned, shameless as ever. But that one faded, morphing until it was a sedated mirror image. It should amaze her how quickly he had zeroed in on the problem. It didn’t, really. Her motions became repetitive, more soothing for her than for him but she couldn’t notice right then.
A pause lingered and lengthened, until others might have thought she had forgotten the question. She hadn’t, even though the reply was that obvious. “No,” she said simply. “Not since he told me what was going on. We haven’t had the time.”
He certainly did. Whoever thought they had better hair simply had a severe case of jealousy. A subtle but pleased purr was won from him with him even leaning into her touch. It was so nice to be stroked once in a while. It was even nicer to have something on focus on while he waited for her to answer him.
And when she did, he forced himself to lean away from her hand to give her his full attention. "You have to, you know. With the weddings called off, you have nothing but time outside of your normal duties." A small pause. "You're twins. In fact, that reason alone makes me wonder why you haven't made time for him. Or he for you."
“He’s bothered by what happened. Makes sense he would need time for himself.” The reply was so simple, left her lips so quickly that Morgan had to laugh when she fell silent. Defending him was a reflex, even if it meant saying the exact same thing she wished to say out loud. Then again, Troilus had also said she was in the wrong. And she was.
There was really no reason to lie. “I’m upset, sweetie.” Her hands returned to their previous position, entwined on her belly, her head leaning to rest on the back of the chair. “If I go to him now, as I am, I won’t be as understanding or as helpful as I should be. He doesn’t need a jealous sister. He needs a cool head and open arms. I’m not that perfect.”
"He's had enough time," Troilus replied, judging his king. He couldn't help it, not when he himself was so big on family. He had left Ilium for a change but he wouldn't push away his siblings, not ever.
"No, you're not perfect but he has done you more wrong. If you reacted jealously, that is fine. That is within your right. You should show your emotions, my dear, and let him know how his secrecy has pained you. If you don't, he won't understand or learn."
“Dearest, there are moments in which I’m grateful that engagement was ever done.” Morgan heard every word, accepted there was truth in them but evaded anyway. It was hard to explain to Troilus. She didn’t remember to have ever argued with Arthur so she didn’t know exactly how to react. Quick forgiveness was on the tip of her tongue but Arthur hadn’t even acknowledged harm against her. Maybe he hadn’t noticed. Or she hadn’t allowed him to see. But he was supposed to be able to see, damnit! Gods, she was turning herself into knots and painful confusion.
Slowly, Morgan lowered her legs and pushed herself forward, now into a more decent sited position. Her eyes weren’t on Troilus, even if her attention was. They were down the balcony to where the training grounds stood; to where Lancelot should be, to where Arthur most likely was. She wasn’t doing this right. “I will speak to him, you don’t have to worry. He is my brother, my King. There’s some people you can’t pull away from and he’s mine.” She twisted her head a little, watching him through the corner of her eye. “I’m fine, sweetie. I really am.”
"Just moments?" he teased gently even while sincerely believing every moment had been something wonderful. But what was done was done, though the future held many opportunities.
As she straightened up, he brought himself back up on his feet. Her words were the sort he knew he himself would utter if he was in a situation like hers. Possessive, strong. Granted the assurance at the end was all hers he still agreed with it and believed it. "I know you are but you'll be even better once you grab the king by the ear and sit him down."
“Just moments. I won’t have someone pampered around me. I’m much more of a taker than a giver.” It was a silly game but as God was her witness, her body had relaxed, her mind had stopped tossing and turning in confusion. He was right, simply that. She wasn’t someone to hide licking his wounds and Arthur had few to scold or pushing him to do the right thing at times. Few because he was the King. Well, she was a Princess if that didn’t serve for this, it served for nothing.
A slow breath left through her lips, her resolve tight and strong once more. There was even a smile on her expression as she stood up. Granted, it was lightly sedated in comparison with her normal attitude but Troilus was patching up her problem, not solving. That would require a little more work.
“Thank you.” Leaning in, Morgan kissed his cheek gently, finishing the movement with a quick grasp of his arm. “As your reward, dearest, you get to escort me down to dinner. If I must slap some sense into that foolish man I call a brother, I’m doing it with some food in body.”
"That is most wise." There was nothing like being treated as one deserved. A smirk in place and a hand over the one on his arm, he looked down at her. "I'm going to start rumours about us, pretty. Just because I can. But only after you handle Arthur. Best not to complicate things too much."
All for fun, of course. They needed the lightness and soon.