I just finished my last Merlin/Morgana story last week, "Resistance if Futile", so I wasn't expecting the Muse to strike again. But this one did and things just came together really quickly. Right now the rating's at a "T" but as with all my stories, things will get naughty.

This takes place right after Season 2's "Lancelot and Guinevere". I'm not quire certain how to factor in Morgana's magic but I'll try to make due.

Enjoy!

Just One of the Boys

Chapter 1

"It's not ladylike, Morgana," came the bored voice of Camelot's King.

"Well, neither is being manhandled or kidnapped, but with the current state of Camelot, those are looking like rather real options."

She saw the fury flare in the face of her guardian before he tightened his hold on the curved edge of the throne. His voice was soft as he began, but deadly, "That's an order, Morgana. I will not have you engaging in sword-play. Bad enough that you have that sharp tongue to contend with, I don't need any suitors frightened off by your combat skills."

"But I'm as good as any man! I have to practice!" Her voice echoed off the stonewalls of the elaborate court.

Uther turned his head and settled his gaze on the one man he could trust to enforce law here. "Arthur?" he said.

"Yes, sire?"

"I want it decreed that anyone who engages in sword play or teaches any type of weaponry to the Lady Morgana shall be beheaded. If any person even hands her a sword, he will be beheaded"

"But Sire—" Arthur started to say in suprise, only to be cut off.

"Beheaded, Arthur. Make it so."

"Father, I-"

"Beheaded," Uther said, some relish of delight in his voice.

"Yes, sire," Arthur said through tight lips. Disapproval was evident on his face but he said nothing.

Finally turning back to Morgana, he smiled at her exasperated expression. "Your eventual marriage is too important to Camelot for me to take the chance that any man could be turned off by your…unsavory activities," his voice softened, "Besides, you have an entire castle of men to protect you, there's no reason for you to have a sword."

"Then, what, pray tell am I to do?" Morgana practically spat out.

"Knit. Play the harp. Read. Arrange flowers. Whatever it is you womenfolk do that's gentile and proper," he said with a bored wave of his hand.

"You wouldn't dare behead someone over something so trivial," she said.

"My dear, you don't know the half of what I would dare. And this matter isn't trival. Your sword-fighting just became a matter of state business and as you know, I take that very seriously. Besides, do you want to take that chance?" Uther asked.

She didn't respond. Instead she turned on her heel and stormed out of the hall.

Uther just smiled.

It had been two days. Two bloody days of knitting, of gossip, of pure unadulterated boredom.

If she had a sword in hand now, she might've killed Uther on the spot. Instead she jammed her needle into the frame, pretending it was Uther's head. This was madness. She wasn't meant for this type of sedatary lifestyle. At least she couldn't tolerate it without some type of physical exercise. She felt restless without it. Anxious. Ready to explode. She didn't know how much longer she could take of this.

Which was why she was going to talk to Arthur tonight. He knew this was madness and he wouldn't let it continue.

She waited until after dinner to approach Arthur.( He was rather cranky when he was hungry.) She had smiled all throughout dinner, content to let Uther bask in his victory. Rebellion was in the air and she could afford to be generous.

After a quick knock on Arthur's door, she entered the room to find her surrogate brother seated in a cushy chair by the fire. Good, she thought, he's relaxed. Perfect time for my proposal.

"Arthur, how are you? That's a nice-" she started with an extra bright smile on her face and a compliment on her lips. Charm was her best asset.

But before she could get out any bits of flattery, he said, "The answer's no, Morgana."

He didn't even turn his eyes from the fire.

"No to what? I haven't asked for anything yet," she responded sweetly.

"But you will. I know why you're here. You want me to break my father's decree and spar with you. So again, the answer's no."

Moving to stand in front of him, she forced him to meet her gaze, "And why the hell not?"

"Such unladylike language," he said, smirking slightly, "And you know why. Besides, I'm sure you can find another hobby to occupy your time until the King relents," he said with a wave of his hand.

Angry now, she started, "Hobby? Sword fighting isn't a hobby and you, of all people, should know that. I need to know how to defend myself. I need to practice my skills. What would've happened to me or to Gwen if I wasn't able to fight?"

A strange look passed over Arthur's face at the mention of the dangerous scrap that had taken place mere weeks ago. Before she could discern his emotions, he became hardened again, "Look, I shudder to think of the treatment you might've experienced from those barbarians. It bothers me that Gwen even had to be in their control that long. But the reality is that I can't help you. My father is already upset that I rescued Gwen, I can't try his patience again. Not so soon."

"So don't tell him."

"Morgana, you know I hate secrets. And in this case, I can't and I won't. Not for something so trivial. You'll have to find another way, particularly another way that I don't know about," he said with finality.

"What do you suggest?"

"I suggest nothing. I'm not even aware that you're doing anything illegal. I didn't hear a word about that," turning patronizing, "You know, it's probably for the best."

"Ugh, men! Bloody overprotective idiots, the whole lot of them!" she shouted as she beat a swift departure from his chambers.

"Stupid. Infuriating," she said, angrily stomping back to her room. She was so caught up in her internal tirade that she didn't hear the footsteps as she rounded the last corner to her room. WHAM, her body slammed against a hard chest and she was knocked to the floor. Seconds later, a heavy body fell on top of her, squeezing the breath out of her.

"My lady? My lady? Are you alright? Are you hurt?" asked an all too familiar voice.

"I'm fine, Merlin," she managed to get out between gasping breaths.

His hands hand started to run over her body, checking her head, her arms, her sides for any damage. While she knew that he was just trying to ascertain if she were truly fine, his touch felt anything but. His hands were gentle and warm, the heat seeping through the velvet of her gown. He was still cradled between her body and she felt herself grow rather tingly.

"Really, I'm fine, Merlin," she said, uncertain if her voice sounded shaky from the fall or the intimate position they were in. She felt confused by her body's reaction to what were clearly innocent actions. Yet there was nothing innocent about their position and her body's reaction was scandalous. It felt nice. Too nice.

As if reading her thoughts, he scrambled backwards and started to blush, "I'm sorry, my lady. I'm sure I was more harm than help."

She couldn't help but smile at his embarrassment. The blush that stained his high cheekbones was most adorable.

Still blushing, he extended her hand down to help her off the floor. Taking it, she felt the same sort of awareness from before. His hand was large and hard, with calluses that demonstrated how hard he worked.

"Are you sure you're alright, my lady?" Merlin asked, his eyes still searching for injuries. His thumb swept over her knuckles before dropping her hand and she shivered.

"Yes, I'm quite alright," she said, breathily. She felt a bit dazed. Whether because of the fall or the strange pleasure of Merlin's touch, she wasn't sure.

"I'm so sorry. Arthur always says that I'm too clumsy to be a proper servant," Merlin said with a smile.

"No, the fault was mine. I was angry and not conscious of my surroundings," she said reassuredly.

"Do I dare ask what made you angry?"

"What else? The King has banned me from sword-play and Arthur refuses to be of any help."

"I see. It might be a bit treacherous to say this, but I think the all women should know how to defend themselves. I know first hand what a valuable asset you can be in combat," he said, referring to the battle at his village.

"I wish the King saw it that way. Or Arthur, for that matter. They both think it unladylike," she said with a huff. It was nice to be able to share this with someone. While Gwen was a wonderful confidante and friend, she wasn't quite so willing to criticize Uther. For good reasons, but still, this was nice.

"Well, you're always a lady to me, Morgana," he said with a smile, "I'd better go. Arthur becomes more of a prat the longer I make him wait. Are you certain you're alright?"

"Yes, I'm perfectly fine, Merlin. Stop worrying."

"Ok, well, goodnight, Morgana," he whispered, his voice slightly husky.

"Goodnight, Merlin," she whispered back.

Before she could round the corner, he called her name and she turned, "Yes?"

"You know, too bad you're not a man, my lady. Then the King wouldn't be able to stop you," he said, mirth sparkling in his eyes.

"Too bad indeed," she responded.

FINIS

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