When do merlin and morgana kiss

And it did not matter when or where or how long he was with her, he was always left craving more. It was always better and worse after Morgana had wine. Not so much that she was lost to the alcohol, but enough that it softened her edge, brought down her defences. She would hold him, then, rest her head to the crook of his shoulder and allow for his embrace to be tender around her.

It was the quiet moments with her when Merlin accepted that he loved her. It was stupid, and bound for heartbreak and upset. But that didn't matter when she had her arms around his middle, her glorious hair hanging loosely and lying over everything. It didn't matter when she would pull away slightly, tip her head up and kiss him softly, without any more cause than that she wanted to.

Morgana had sincerely believed his ignorance was fake. She rushed to his moaning, crumpled form on the forest floor, dropping to her knees and cradling his head on her lap. You're improving, though," he offered weakly, tones only slightly sarcastic. She bit her tongue against a retort. Have you learned nothing from Gaius? The blood would rush to your head and increase the pain. His grin turned innocent and he raised his hands with palms forward in surrender. How he could be so cavalier about his own life- He looked at her over his shoulder and frowned.

Statement, not question. Tones bewildered as if her concern was an entirely new phenomenon to him. Hurt ignited to burn more fiercely than the ice of her fear froze her. She only fought him for a moment. She hadn't realised until quite recently. It was evident in the way he would be with her: long arms encircling her, hugging her so flush to himself she could hardly breathe as his mouth moved on hers.

Morgana had entertained the attentions of many men: from sewer to throne room, those native to Camelot and those most certainly not. The majority she had turned away with disdain; their eyes leering, mouths almost dripping with drool. It made her stomach roil, her skin crawl.

Merlin was different; he had been guarded at first, almost scared to touch her regardless that it was so obvious he wanted to. Earlier that morning, Arthur had smiled at Merlin, his blue eyes soft, and ruffled his hair and told him affectionately that he was the worst servant in the five kingdoms.

Arthur shifts, and for one terrifying moment Merlin thinks he must have seen. But then Arthur turns, and claps Merlin on the arm just in his usual way, with a smile in his eyes. And Merlin breathes again, and they go out shoulder to shoulder to the waiting tournament.

But the cup was never poison, after all, just a draught of sleep. And then Arthur stirs and mumbles groggily, eyes still shut, and Merlin bows his head over him, his throat tight with tenderness. The third time, Merlin's just been held hostage by bandits. They'd been running away, he and Arthur, and they're just getting away from their pursuers when Merlin feels a sharp red agony in his calf, and stumbles, with a little bitten-off cry.

There's an arrow embedded deep into the muscle and flesh, and it hurts so much that there are waves of blackness rolling over his eyeballs. He tries, desperately, to maintain consciousness, because he needs to be able to protect Arthur with his magic, and Arthur does stupid reckless things when Merlin's not there to watch him. But it's no use, the pain is too much, and he fades into the blackness with Arthur's frantic face in his mind, and the sound of Arthur's agonised voice calling his name.

And from further away, he hears Arthur's voice, humming with tightly controlled anger, negotiating. There is cold steel at his throat, and rough arms holding him that are not Arthur's. He knows something is wrong, badly wrong, but there's so much pain, and his mind seems to be drifting in a separate space to his body, and he's so tired, so very, very tired. He tries to hang on to the most solid thing, which is that Arthur might be in danger, but he's helpless, drifting in and out of himself like some bit of jetsam on the tide.

Arthur's talking, somewhere far away, much too far away. He wants Arthur to be here, he wants to hold on to his Arthur and kiss Arthur's hands and face, and he tries calling for him, because surely Arthur will come. Now Arthur's roaring. Now he's talking again.

I screamed but I don't think anybody heard me. I screamed and shouted and tried to punch him, but he forced me to the ground and got on top of me. I screamed one last time and closed my eyes. But nothing happened, I slowly opened my eyes and saw Merlin standing there. He smiled down at me, then offered a hand and I took it. He took me in his arms, "where have you been? Merlin then took my hand and walked me back up to the castle. My heart was racing from what had just happened but also because Merlin was back with me, where he belonged.

The Watty Awards. Try Premium. Log in Sign Up. New Reading List. Send to Friend. That this servant is risking his life so he can tell her that the king is looking for her. I will argue to my grave that she was about to kiss him in this moment. The look she gives Merlin is exactly the same as she gives Alvarr in 02x As they are rushing to escape you see Merlin risk his own life for her.

Again, he is sacrificing himself for her secret and she is in awe. When she returns in the castle they share a very sweet and innocent moment together. She allows him, in her room, at night, in her pajamas.

We have to remember the timeframe here…that is pretty big. That nothing can ever become of them at this moment in time. She also looks extremely disappointed that he did not lean in to kiss her.

Then 02x11 rolls around, and you can see how Morgana wants nothing more than to be herself with people…Merlin being her only anchor of that in Camelot.