The Only Way To Have A Friend Is To Be One - Merlin - Gwen/Morgana
Title: The Only Way To Have A Friend Is To Be One
Pairing: Gwen/Morgana (mentions of others)
Word Count: 1914
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: General spoilers up to 2x04
A/N: Written using a 10_per_genre prompt.
Summary: Gwen can't help but be unsettled when Merlin and Morgana begin to spend more time together.
Gwen remembers the way that she and Morgana used to smile together. They spent weeks at a time by each other's side; she would be there to soothe Morgana's nightmares and to brighten her mornings. In the time following her father's death, Morgana had been the one to keep her going throughout the day and to give her a safety net of love and security. There had been flowers and hair-braiding and soft kisses, then.
Not now.
Now there is a hardness in Morgana's eyes and Gwen knows there are so many secrets between them. So much goes unshared.
Her hands cling to the sides of the tray as she carries it into Morgana's chambers, pushing the door open with her back. "Your breakfast, my lady," she says - but her words halt, suddenly. She is not the first person here this morning.
Merlin sits on the bed beside Morgana, both of them wearing smiles on their faces. There is a bunch of wild flowers in Morgana's hands, purple ones. Her favourite colour.
She tears her gaze from Merlin for long enough to smile at Gwen, inviting her further into the room with a wave of her hand. "Gwen, look what Merlin brought me," she says.
"They're lovely," Gwen answers - but it's usually her job to pick the flowers and bring them to Morgana's room. Her place is at Morgana's side just as Merlin's place is working for Arthur. She can't explain why it upsets her so much to have it unbalanced. "Isn't Arthur looking for you, Merlin?"
"He thinks I'm mucking out his stables," Merlin says, with a grin that is not at all remorseful.
"He does realise that we have stable-hands for that?" Morgana says.
"Oh, he realises it. I don't think he cares." Merlin's grin is wry and Gwen has to privately admit that, perhaps, he has a point. Arthur isn't well known for his sympathetic qualities and he seems to take extra special pleasure in tormenting Merlin at any opportunity. It's rather sad, really. "I'd best head off, I guess."
"You could stay for breakfast," Morgana suggests. Merlin's eyes glance towards Gwen, but Morgana reaches out to hold onto his jacket's sleeve. "Please, Merlin." Her voice has dropped to something quiet and private. Gwen feels as if she is intruding.
She places her tray down on the table in the room and begins to walk towards Morgana's wardrobe to look for the clothes she will be wearing today. Morgana is still in her nightdress, with a man in the room; admittedly, the man is Merlin and despite her previous crush on him Gwen can admit that he probably doesn't count in aristocratic circles, but it still strikes her as inadvisable.
"I'll come and visit you later," Merlin promises with a squeeze of Morgana's hand.
Gwen has to fuss with Morgana's dress and assure herself that the heat flashing through her belly is nothing to do with jealousy. She and Morgana have no claims upon one another.
When the door closes behind Merlin, Morgana moves to the table to eat the food that Gwen has brought for her.
"I hadn't realised that you and Merlin were so close," Gwen says, trying to sound as casual as she possibly can.
She pays a great deal of attention to an imaginary piece of lint on Morgana's green dress when she feels the lazy power of Morgana's insightful gaze upon her. It's easier than having to meet Morgana's eyes. "I had a nightmare. Merlin came to help me calm down," she answers.
That should be Gwen's job, and it once was. She is supposed to be the one to hold Morgana close and soothe away her fears in the dead of the night. She holds her tongue and gets on with her work; it is not her place to say a thing.
*
She finds herself accidentally alone in one of the corridors with Arthur. He is walking to the throne room and she is going in the same direction. Their paces are similar and she falls into step behind him.
It is difficult, now, to interact with him. She isn't entirely sure on the state of their relations with each other, but she believes that they are more than servant and prince now. She let him into her home. She let him kiss her.
And, as he stubbornly reminded her, nothing could ever happen between them. She doesn't think about it very often, now.
"Arthur," she says, "my lord." His footsteps falter for a moment as it seems to occur to him that ignoring her is no longer an option. She speeds up in order to walk at his side. "May I ask a question?"
The long pause that follows her question implies that he would very much like to say 'no'. When he doesn't answer at all, she takes that as consent.
"Have you realised that Merlin and Morgana have been spending a lot of time together recently?" she asks. She looks down when Arthur looks at her face, because she knows that she shouldn't be asking. It isn't any of her business what her lady gets up to. "For weeks now, they seem to always be together."
"Merlin doesn't have much of a word ethic. I am not surprised that he'd take any opportunity to slack off," Arthur answers. His arrogant, careless tone doesn't take long to break down. "I've already tried to talk to him about it, Guinevere. I'll bring it up with him once more."
"Thank you," Gwen says with a bob of her head. "I don't mean to overstep my boundaries, of course. I'm worried. I'm right to be worried, I think."
"You're a good friend to her," Arthur says.
It ought to help her feel validated, yet she isn't sure if true friends act in the way that she has lately. She can't make sense of it. She's a good person; she wants to be a good person.
She is glad to leave Arthur behind when they reach the end of the corridor, but their conversation leaves a heavy weight in the pit of her stomach. Her skilled hands work tirelessly to make herself feel better. She takes on chores that are not her own and she manages to stay out of Morgana's way for the majority of the day.
Her place ought to be at Morgana's side, but in this instance she doesn't feel her heart can handle it. Between Arthur and Lancelot her heart and mind have been spinning in circles in recent weeks. Disappointment and rejection have been non-stop - and she can't watch Morgana fall for someone else, or watch Merlin doing the same thing. She can wish them all the happiness in the world, but she can't watch.
When it comes down to it, she's just not strong enough.
*
Morgana's hair is silky when Gwen brushes it for her. It's one of her favourite tasks, so she has a soft smile on her face as she does it this evening. The brush in her hand gently works its way through any tangles and she follows it with her fingers purely because she likes the sensation. Morgana is sat in front of her at the stool before her dressing table, staring into the mirror.
"I had the most interesting conversation with Merlin today," Morgana says, and Gwen's heart begins to sink. She smiles all the same and gives a noise that ought to indicate interest. "He said that Arthur had told him to stay away from me. Can you believe that?"
Gwen should have known that Arthur's solution to the problem would be as blunt as humanly possible. Her smile twitches, a little more genuine now.
"He's trying to look after you," she says, "in his own way."
"I don't need to be protected from Merlin," Morgana says, with a floating laugh in her voice that Gwen wishes she could contradict. Morgana doesn't need to be 'protected' from anybody; she's the strongest person Gwen has ever met. "You don't either, you know."
Gwen's brow furrows as she continues to comb Morgana's black hair, looking into the mirror to catch her eyes. "What do you mean?"
"Merlin is a friend. I share a connection with him now, but he is only a friend. He will only ever be a friend." Morgana's gaze is steady and doesn't falter as she looks at Gwen in the mirror. "Did you ask Arthur to talk to Merlin?"
She could lie; she could deny it.
She should.
Yet she does not lie to Morgana, not ever, and the guilt is clear on her face anyway. "I don't want you to get hurt," she admits, scarcely a whisper.
Morgana reaches up to hold onto her hand. Her fingers are cold but her palm is hot and Gwen doesn't stop herself from gripping on tightly. "What am I to do with you, Gwen?" Morgana asks mournfully.
Gwen clings onto Morgana's hand. "Keep me," she suggests, and the two words come out squeezed and stressed. She doesn't want to sound like she's begging, but she knows that she is. "I'm scared I'll lose you." Morgana pulls on her arm and it is enough to lead her around the chair. Gwen places down the brush in her hand and allows herself to be guided to sit on Morgana's lap. "You'll crease your dress," she frets, but the expression on Morgana's face implies that she doesn't really care.
"I had to watch Arthur mooning over you for weeks," Morgana says, unconcerned with her dress - which is all very well for her, Gwen thinks, because she won't be the one that has to fight to get it back to a presentable state, and she looks down mournfully at the material crushed beneath her and knows that she is only thinking about that to avoid thinking about anything else. "He may love you."
"He is a very fine man," Gwen responds, because underneath his arrogant attitude he is a sweet man and he will be a strong king. "We kissed," she admits impulsively. "Just once. It was... nice."
It had been a gentle surprise; she doesn't regret it.
Morgana's hand is rubbing circles on her hip through the material of her dress. "You see? I have far more to worry about than you do."
"I don't want to be with him," Gwen says. "He is a good prince, but... I'm not interested in him, not like that."
"Are you interested in me?" Morgana asks, with the kind of confidence and boldness that Gwen always envies. Her eyes sparkle. "'Like that'?"
She nods without hesitating, bowing her head only once. "Yes, my lady."
Morgana's hand leaves her hip and she instantly misses its warmth, but it finds its way to her chin instead. Soft pressure guides her to look up; she meets Morgana's gaze reluctantly. Morgana's eyes are bright and beautiful, full of secrets and mystery. Gwen never gets a chance to ask any of the questions that want to bubble from her mouth, because Morgana leans forward and presses a kiss to her lips.
It is not the first time they've kissed and Gwen knows that it won't be the last. Morgana's lips are as soft and demanding as they have always been; Gwen yields. She always has. She gives Morgana everything that she wants, not because she is the servant and Morgana is her mistress. She gives herself because she is Guinevere and her lady is Morgana: they fit together in a way that Gwen feels now that neither Merlin or Arthur could ever understand.
Pairing: Gwen/Morgana (mentions of others)
Word Count: 1914
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: General spoilers up to 2x04
A/N: Written using a 10_per_genre prompt.
Summary: Gwen can't help but be unsettled when Merlin and Morgana begin to spend more time together.
Gwen remembers the way that she and Morgana used to smile together. They spent weeks at a time by each other's side; she would be there to soothe Morgana's nightmares and to brighten her mornings. In the time following her father's death, Morgana had been the one to keep her going throughout the day and to give her a safety net of love and security. There had been flowers and hair-braiding and soft kisses, then.
Not now.
Now there is a hardness in Morgana's eyes and Gwen knows there are so many secrets between them. So much goes unshared.
Her hands cling to the sides of the tray as she carries it into Morgana's chambers, pushing the door open with her back. "Your breakfast, my lady," she says - but her words halt, suddenly. She is not the first person here this morning.
Merlin sits on the bed beside Morgana, both of them wearing smiles on their faces. There is a bunch of wild flowers in Morgana's hands, purple ones. Her favourite colour.
She tears her gaze from Merlin for long enough to smile at Gwen, inviting her further into the room with a wave of her hand. "Gwen, look what Merlin brought me," she says.
"They're lovely," Gwen answers - but it's usually her job to pick the flowers and bring them to Morgana's room. Her place is at Morgana's side just as Merlin's place is working for Arthur. She can't explain why it upsets her so much to have it unbalanced. "Isn't Arthur looking for you, Merlin?"
"He thinks I'm mucking out his stables," Merlin says, with a grin that is not at all remorseful.
"He does realise that we have stable-hands for that?" Morgana says.
"Oh, he realises it. I don't think he cares." Merlin's grin is wry and Gwen has to privately admit that, perhaps, he has a point. Arthur isn't well known for his sympathetic qualities and he seems to take extra special pleasure in tormenting Merlin at any opportunity. It's rather sad, really. "I'd best head off, I guess."
"You could stay for breakfast," Morgana suggests. Merlin's eyes glance towards Gwen, but Morgana reaches out to hold onto his jacket's sleeve. "Please, Merlin." Her voice has dropped to something quiet and private. Gwen feels as if she is intruding.
She places her tray down on the table in the room and begins to walk towards Morgana's wardrobe to look for the clothes she will be wearing today. Morgana is still in her nightdress, with a man in the room; admittedly, the man is Merlin and despite her previous crush on him Gwen can admit that he probably doesn't count in aristocratic circles, but it still strikes her as inadvisable.
"I'll come and visit you later," Merlin promises with a squeeze of Morgana's hand.
Gwen has to fuss with Morgana's dress and assure herself that the heat flashing through her belly is nothing to do with jealousy. She and Morgana have no claims upon one another.
When the door closes behind Merlin, Morgana moves to the table to eat the food that Gwen has brought for her.
"I hadn't realised that you and Merlin were so close," Gwen says, trying to sound as casual as she possibly can.
She pays a great deal of attention to an imaginary piece of lint on Morgana's green dress when she feels the lazy power of Morgana's insightful gaze upon her. It's easier than having to meet Morgana's eyes. "I had a nightmare. Merlin came to help me calm down," she answers.
That should be Gwen's job, and it once was. She is supposed to be the one to hold Morgana close and soothe away her fears in the dead of the night. She holds her tongue and gets on with her work; it is not her place to say a thing.
*
She finds herself accidentally alone in one of the corridors with Arthur. He is walking to the throne room and she is going in the same direction. Their paces are similar and she falls into step behind him.
It is difficult, now, to interact with him. She isn't entirely sure on the state of their relations with each other, but she believes that they are more than servant and prince now. She let him into her home. She let him kiss her.
And, as he stubbornly reminded her, nothing could ever happen between them. She doesn't think about it very often, now.
"Arthur," she says, "my lord." His footsteps falter for a moment as it seems to occur to him that ignoring her is no longer an option. She speeds up in order to walk at his side. "May I ask a question?"
The long pause that follows her question implies that he would very much like to say 'no'. When he doesn't answer at all, she takes that as consent.
"Have you realised that Merlin and Morgana have been spending a lot of time together recently?" she asks. She looks down when Arthur looks at her face, because she knows that she shouldn't be asking. It isn't any of her business what her lady gets up to. "For weeks now, they seem to always be together."
"Merlin doesn't have much of a word ethic. I am not surprised that he'd take any opportunity to slack off," Arthur answers. His arrogant, careless tone doesn't take long to break down. "I've already tried to talk to him about it, Guinevere. I'll bring it up with him once more."
"Thank you," Gwen says with a bob of her head. "I don't mean to overstep my boundaries, of course. I'm worried. I'm right to be worried, I think."
"You're a good friend to her," Arthur says.
It ought to help her feel validated, yet she isn't sure if true friends act in the way that she has lately. She can't make sense of it. She's a good person; she wants to be a good person.
She is glad to leave Arthur behind when they reach the end of the corridor, but their conversation leaves a heavy weight in the pit of her stomach. Her skilled hands work tirelessly to make herself feel better. She takes on chores that are not her own and she manages to stay out of Morgana's way for the majority of the day.
Her place ought to be at Morgana's side, but in this instance she doesn't feel her heart can handle it. Between Arthur and Lancelot her heart and mind have been spinning in circles in recent weeks. Disappointment and rejection have been non-stop - and she can't watch Morgana fall for someone else, or watch Merlin doing the same thing. She can wish them all the happiness in the world, but she can't watch.
When it comes down to it, she's just not strong enough.
*
Morgana's hair is silky when Gwen brushes it for her. It's one of her favourite tasks, so she has a soft smile on her face as she does it this evening. The brush in her hand gently works its way through any tangles and she follows it with her fingers purely because she likes the sensation. Morgana is sat in front of her at the stool before her dressing table, staring into the mirror.
"I had the most interesting conversation with Merlin today," Morgana says, and Gwen's heart begins to sink. She smiles all the same and gives a noise that ought to indicate interest. "He said that Arthur had told him to stay away from me. Can you believe that?"
Gwen should have known that Arthur's solution to the problem would be as blunt as humanly possible. Her smile twitches, a little more genuine now.
"He's trying to look after you," she says, "in his own way."
"I don't need to be protected from Merlin," Morgana says, with a floating laugh in her voice that Gwen wishes she could contradict. Morgana doesn't need to be 'protected' from anybody; she's the strongest person Gwen has ever met. "You don't either, you know."
Gwen's brow furrows as she continues to comb Morgana's black hair, looking into the mirror to catch her eyes. "What do you mean?"
"Merlin is a friend. I share a connection with him now, but he is only a friend. He will only ever be a friend." Morgana's gaze is steady and doesn't falter as she looks at Gwen in the mirror. "Did you ask Arthur to talk to Merlin?"
She could lie; she could deny it.
She should.
Yet she does not lie to Morgana, not ever, and the guilt is clear on her face anyway. "I don't want you to get hurt," she admits, scarcely a whisper.
Morgana reaches up to hold onto her hand. Her fingers are cold but her palm is hot and Gwen doesn't stop herself from gripping on tightly. "What am I to do with you, Gwen?" Morgana asks mournfully.
Gwen clings onto Morgana's hand. "Keep me," she suggests, and the two words come out squeezed and stressed. She doesn't want to sound like she's begging, but she knows that she is. "I'm scared I'll lose you." Morgana pulls on her arm and it is enough to lead her around the chair. Gwen places down the brush in her hand and allows herself to be guided to sit on Morgana's lap. "You'll crease your dress," she frets, but the expression on Morgana's face implies that she doesn't really care.
"I had to watch Arthur mooning over you for weeks," Morgana says, unconcerned with her dress - which is all very well for her, Gwen thinks, because she won't be the one that has to fight to get it back to a presentable state, and she looks down mournfully at the material crushed beneath her and knows that she is only thinking about that to avoid thinking about anything else. "He may love you."
"He is a very fine man," Gwen responds, because underneath his arrogant attitude he is a sweet man and he will be a strong king. "We kissed," she admits impulsively. "Just once. It was... nice."
It had been a gentle surprise; she doesn't regret it.
Morgana's hand is rubbing circles on her hip through the material of her dress. "You see? I have far more to worry about than you do."
"I don't want to be with him," Gwen says. "He is a good prince, but... I'm not interested in him, not like that."
"Are you interested in me?" Morgana asks, with the kind of confidence and boldness that Gwen always envies. Her eyes sparkle. "'Like that'?"
She nods without hesitating, bowing her head only once. "Yes, my lady."
Morgana's hand leaves her hip and she instantly misses its warmth, but it finds its way to her chin instead. Soft pressure guides her to look up; she meets Morgana's gaze reluctantly. Morgana's eyes are bright and beautiful, full of secrets and mystery. Gwen never gets a chance to ask any of the questions that want to bubble from her mouth, because Morgana leans forward and presses a kiss to her lips.
It is not the first time they've kissed and Gwen knows that it won't be the last. Morgana's lips are as soft and demanding as they have always been; Gwen yields. She always has. She gives Morgana everything that she wants, not because she is the servant and Morgana is her mistress. She gives herself because she is Guinevere and her lady is Morgana: they fit together in a way that Gwen feels now that neither Merlin or Arthur could ever understand.