(no subject)
Title: But As Long As You Love Me So.
Author: Moi
Beta: Thank you to mystictwilight for the editing! And pratface for reading it over and just telling me which parts made next to little sense. :-D
Characters/Pairings: Morgana, Gwen. Morgana/Gwen. [Background, Merlin/Arthur. Not so subtle hints at future OT5: Morgana/Gwen/Merlin/Arthur/Lancelot]
Rating: PG-13, since it hints at sexual relations.
Disclaimer: Any recognizable characters is owned by BBC Merlin. I am just happy to enjoy them.
Spoilers: None. It's modern times-AU.
A.N.: Dedicated to faynia .
A.N.2: Prompt ice skating.
Morgana hated winter mornings just as much as Arthur hated winter in general. Which, in her opinion, was a lot more hate because it was concentrated on one single thing. While Arthur would gripe about the snow during the afternoon, gripe about the freezing draft in the evening, bitch about icicles being deadly weapons, and glare at anyone who dared to venture outside in parkas giggling into their chilling hot cocoa (be it a precocious little urchin from hell or Hunith on the ski slope), Morgana had the sense - read: the brains - to know that she had to mitigate her dislike of Jack Frost.
She would go out with Merlin on the slopes. She would clear up her weekend schedule to come up to the resort in the first place, just to satisfy Gwen and Lance. She would brave the snow making a mess of her hair, and her fingers and possibly what was left of her aforementioned brain becoming frozen as she rolled in slush with her friends making snow angels.
However, the mornings. Everyone knew that the mornings were off limits.
Which was why Morgana was not watching Gwen make her way from the small kitchen into their bedroom with a cup of something that had better be coffee in her hands. Wrapped in her comforter in such a way that would have had a mummy wincing in pain, Morgana was warm and groggy with the only parts of her body visible to any possible visiting wind being her eyes and her fingers that clutched the edge of the comforter against the side of her arm.
Because Gwen knew. She knew not to even consider bothering Morgana for any snow time activities before one P.M. She would have expected that nonsense from Arthur, and even Merlin; but never from Gwen.
Yet there she was, hesitant, but determined. Carefully making her way, only pausing twice along the way; once by the couch to tuck up Lancelot's cover up to his shoulders. Arthur said it was because he still didn't understand that when Merlin invited him to sleep in his and Arthur's bed or Gwen invited him to do the same in theirs, it was because Lancelot felt that they were being polite. And because he was Lancelot, carved from Good-Hearted Propriety and actual nobility as much as Gwen was Stead-fast and Sweet and Merlin was ... cack-handed [Arthur's words not hers. Morgana did have this odd habit of actually remembering what Arthur said when he was being stupid yet making sense at the same time. Not just to harass him about it either] Because he was this and he was Lancelot, he was going to be even more polite by sleeping on the very uncomfortable couch, rather than take them up on their unspoken offers. Leading to mixed signals and uncomfortable tension all around.
Morgana suspected that it was because Lancelot wasn't quite sure if he'd actually stick around after they let him in. Which really did a whole lot in changing Morgana's previous indifference towards him. An indifference that had been slightly marred by wanting to get in his pants. An indifference that was completely shattered by cleared schedules for resorts and snow-filled weekends. Shot dead in the head by previous groggy glares that softened while she watched Gwen softly kiss the shifting and awkwardly positioned body on the forehead.
Damn it all.
She was already thawing and Gwen hadn't even made it near yet, hadn't opened her mouth, looking determined and tentative and hopeful and Gwen. Damn it all. Morgana's glaring shifted from the coffee carrying manipulator to the oblivious and sleeping accomplice. She almost missed Gwen practically falling over Merlin's snowboots.
Her movement gave her a headache.
Morgana shot up and straight; one could almost hear the whiplash. Ready as she always was to catch Gwen before she fell. And like always, almost always, Gwen righted herself before Morgana could even think to put her feet onto the ground. Years of working at crowded cafes during finals season. Neither the cup nor the carrier fell. Just some of the hot liquid splashing over the cup, slightly on Gwen's hands but mostly onto the ground, away from her girlfriend's body. Morgana watched, as she settled her now slightly drumming head back onto her pillow, as Gwen sucked on her fingers in a way that made Morgana know that it was coffee. Because there was only one beverage in the world where Gwen shared Morgana's incurable sweet tooth. Blueberry flavored coffee. Her answer would be yes to whatever Gwen asked and Morgana couldn't help but wonder in the back of her mind if it had been a bad idea for Arthur to introduce Gwen to Uther. Because that move was low.
She had just been settling back against the headboard as Gwen stood up from wiping the mess on the wood floor when their eyes caught. Her frown had no power against the crooked smirk that Gwen shot her. The one she got when she was feeling particularly teasing, particularly mischievous, particularly flirty, particularly pleased with one of them all at the same time.
There were days where Morgana knew that Gwen was the smartest of the five of them. Furthermore there were also days where she suspected that her girlfriend was the most evil as well.
Nevertheless, Morgana's frown remained. More or less. Taking a visit into pursed lips.
"I made you coffee." Gwen bared her gift toward Morgana, soft grin fluttering across her face.
Definitely evil.
"I see." Morgana said in such a way that would have made proud the man who was clearly giving her girlfriend lessons on how to ruin her life, starting by making short work of her mornings.
She made a quick mental note to smack the moron - Merlin - who thought it was a good idea to do a meet the parents. Which only further went to prove that Morgana's ability to say no to Merlin was nearly as nonexistent as Arthur's. God. And she didn't even get the benefit of having sex with him. Not that she ever would. Unless ... Much too early for those thoughts.
Gwen's smile only dimmed for the briefest of moments, reemerging full force as Morgana wiggled her fingers as a sign that she wanted the cup between her palms. It was enough to make her shake the comforter off her shoulders in order to properly tug Gwen towards her for an apology by way of a kiss.
“Thank you.” She murmured, after brushing her lips against Gwen’s. Very slowly Gwen deepened the kiss and Morgana leaned up to meet her. Sucking ever so lightly on that bottom lip that was apart of that mouth that she loved, as she pulled away. “I’d be a lot more grateful, if I knew you weren’t trying to bribe me into something.”
Morgana didn’t even have the pleasure to enjoy Gwen’s momentarily dazed expression, though she did get to smirk over the sheepish one that washed over her girlfriend’s face as Gwen carefully sat down by Morgana’s legs. Legs that shifted easily so she could find better purchase on the bed.
“They’ve re-opened the larger ice skating pond.” One of the things that Morgana loved most about Gwen was how she easily combined contradictions with every stutter of her tongue. Every flirtatious quirk of her mouth. Like now, determination intertwined quite easily with uncertainty as Morgana was told what was wanted in that straight-forward manner of her girlfriend’s.
“And you’re hoping to bribe me into coming with you?” The question was punctuated with a rise of her brow and a sip of her coffee. It served as a distraction as Morgana sought to calculate a rough estimation of the amount of time that would be spent at the pond. She wasn’t even going to bother arguing against this because Morgana would allow Gwen anything she wanted. They both knew that and yet her girlfriend never asked for much. Not ever. Which was why she - usually - readily gave into Gwen’s desires. Because Gwen didn’t desire much from her but her presence.
Because come on. Morgana was brought flowers on a daily basis just because Gwen liked to see her smile. Morgana had never had a relationship like Gwen before. Someone who wanted her, as she was, much more than for what she could give them. Morgana would bring the world to it’s knees for Gwen. All that was asked of her was to wobble blearily along frozen water. That was all and she would do it. No point in arguing about it.
Unlike certain a certain blonde individual who saw it fit to argue with his significant other every step of the way, Morgana would receive snuggles when it was all said and done. The warmth of Gwen trumped the freezing nips of Jack Frost. In her mind, a little sacrifice with the result of cuddles was far better than arguing that lead to a sulking. Then again, in reality, Morgana was far more intelligent than Arthur. For obvious reasons.
“I think I’ve already succeeded.” Gwen responded. “We would have the entire place to ourselves for at least a good three hours -”
“Three hours, Gwen ...”
“ - but I think that an hour and a half should be enough before coming back to a nice brunch. Just you and me. No boys allowed to interrupt.”
It was those last five words that strummed through Morgana as she effortlessly made her way across the ice, with all the grace of the long-necked white creatures that made this frozen water their home during warmer seasons. It had pushed her into finishing up her coffee and added warmth while she had gotten dressed.
The thought of an entire afternoon with Gwen. Ice skating, brunch, and cuddles. An afternoon without sheepish Merlin needing one of them to help him with the pickle jar. Or Arthur using boredom as an excuse to spend time with them. Or Lancelot, with his head on Gwen’s lap, debating with her the importance of coloration and brush strokes during the Romantic period. It would be just them. It hadn’t been simply the two of them in some shape or form for longer since Merlin and Arthur had started dating. Arthur and Merlin had developed an inability to leave for anywhere without Lancelot tagging along, thus helping Lancelot to begin his not-so-discreet obsession with her girlfriend.
Morgana felt that had adapted quite well to the three added growths to her relationship which really were not part of her relationship at all. She was more patient with it than most women would be. Accepting of Lancelot’s puppy dog crush. Understanding of the fact that Merlin would be the one that Gwen went to with some things, and not herself. Even if the thought did curl a thin, yet tight, rope of possessiveness around her chest.
None of that was on the forefront of Morgana’s thoughts as those five little words had her concentrating on smiling. Concentrating on Gwen who idly turned on the ice.
“Morgana!” Gwen paused to watch as Morgana spun, taking to skates as if she were born to it. “You should pay more attention to where you’re going.” Her girlfriend’s concern cracked through her thoughts causing her to stop only to shoot Gwen a look of reassurance.
“I’m fine Gwen.” She stated, even though it was clear that Gwen didn’t believe that Morgana wouldn’t get it into her head to pull a move much too complicated and end with a head shattered on the ice.
She always worried that Morgana would push herself too far.
Skating up to Gwen, Morgana caught the other woman by her knit mittens and expertly spun her around. “Stop worrying so much.”
Gwen’s response - the only response acceptable if you asked Morgana - was laughter. Rich and low, as her face was whipped by the wind and her skates cut an odd circular shape against the ice.
A giggle pushed out white puffs of air as she pulled from Morgana’s grasp and she threw her arms around the taller woman’s neck. Gwen tugged at the knit cap on Morgana’s head and pulled her down for a kiss. Morgana does the same. Her mittened palm cupped the back of Gwen’s own snow cap. Quite similar to Morgana’s except for the ear flaps and the strings. And of course, color.
Of the five people who had received knitted hats from Hunith on Christmas, Morgana’s was the only one without the pom-poms. Even Arthur’s of red and brown was exactly like Gwen’s.
Gwen who had pulled back from the kiss, flushed both from Morgana’s warmth and the icy cold.
Author: Moi
Beta: Thank you to mystictwilight for the editing! And pratface for reading it over and just telling me which parts made next to little sense. :-D
Characters/Pairings: Morgana, Gwen. Morgana/Gwen. [Background, Merlin/Arthur. Not so subtle hints at future OT5: Morgana/Gwen/Merlin/Arthur/Lancelot]
Rating: PG-13, since it hints at sexual relations.
Disclaimer: Any recognizable characters is owned by BBC Merlin. I am just happy to enjoy them.
Spoilers: None. It's modern times-AU.
A.N.: Dedicated to faynia .
A.N.2: Prompt ice skating.
Morgana hated winter mornings just as much as Arthur hated winter in general. Which, in her opinion, was a lot more hate because it was concentrated on one single thing. While Arthur would gripe about the snow during the afternoon, gripe about the freezing draft in the evening, bitch about icicles being deadly weapons, and glare at anyone who dared to venture outside in parkas giggling into their chilling hot cocoa (be it a precocious little urchin from hell or Hunith on the ski slope), Morgana had the sense - read: the brains - to know that she had to mitigate her dislike of Jack Frost.
She would go out with Merlin on the slopes. She would clear up her weekend schedule to come up to the resort in the first place, just to satisfy Gwen and Lance. She would brave the snow making a mess of her hair, and her fingers and possibly what was left of her aforementioned brain becoming frozen as she rolled in slush with her friends making snow angels.
However, the mornings. Everyone knew that the mornings were off limits.
Which was why Morgana was not watching Gwen make her way from the small kitchen into their bedroom with a cup of something that had better be coffee in her hands. Wrapped in her comforter in such a way that would have had a mummy wincing in pain, Morgana was warm and groggy with the only parts of her body visible to any possible visiting wind being her eyes and her fingers that clutched the edge of the comforter against the side of her arm.
Because Gwen knew. She knew not to even consider bothering Morgana for any snow time activities before one P.M. She would have expected that nonsense from Arthur, and even Merlin; but never from Gwen.
Yet there she was, hesitant, but determined. Carefully making her way, only pausing twice along the way; once by the couch to tuck up Lancelot's cover up to his shoulders. Arthur said it was because he still didn't understand that when Merlin invited him to sleep in his and Arthur's bed or Gwen invited him to do the same in theirs, it was because Lancelot felt that they were being polite. And because he was Lancelot, carved from Good-Hearted Propriety and actual nobility as much as Gwen was Stead-fast and Sweet and Merlin was ... cack-handed [Arthur's words not hers. Morgana did have this odd habit of actually remembering what Arthur said when he was being stupid yet making sense at the same time. Not just to harass him about it either] Because he was this and he was Lancelot, he was going to be even more polite by sleeping on the very uncomfortable couch, rather than take them up on their unspoken offers. Leading to mixed signals and uncomfortable tension all around.
Morgana suspected that it was because Lancelot wasn't quite sure if he'd actually stick around after they let him in. Which really did a whole lot in changing Morgana's previous indifference towards him. An indifference that had been slightly marred by wanting to get in his pants. An indifference that was completely shattered by cleared schedules for resorts and snow-filled weekends. Shot dead in the head by previous groggy glares that softened while she watched Gwen softly kiss the shifting and awkwardly positioned body on the forehead.
Damn it all.
She was already thawing and Gwen hadn't even made it near yet, hadn't opened her mouth, looking determined and tentative and hopeful and Gwen. Damn it all. Morgana's glaring shifted from the coffee carrying manipulator to the oblivious and sleeping accomplice. She almost missed Gwen practically falling over Merlin's snowboots.
Her movement gave her a headache.
Morgana shot up and straight; one could almost hear the whiplash. Ready as she always was to catch Gwen before she fell. And like always, almost always, Gwen righted herself before Morgana could even think to put her feet onto the ground. Years of working at crowded cafes during finals season. Neither the cup nor the carrier fell. Just some of the hot liquid splashing over the cup, slightly on Gwen's hands but mostly onto the ground, away from her girlfriend's body. Morgana watched, as she settled her now slightly drumming head back onto her pillow, as Gwen sucked on her fingers in a way that made Morgana know that it was coffee. Because there was only one beverage in the world where Gwen shared Morgana's incurable sweet tooth. Blueberry flavored coffee. Her answer would be yes to whatever Gwen asked and Morgana couldn't help but wonder in the back of her mind if it had been a bad idea for Arthur to introduce Gwen to Uther. Because that move was low.
She had just been settling back against the headboard as Gwen stood up from wiping the mess on the wood floor when their eyes caught. Her frown had no power against the crooked smirk that Gwen shot her. The one she got when she was feeling particularly teasing, particularly mischievous, particularly flirty, particularly pleased with one of them all at the same time.
There were days where Morgana knew that Gwen was the smartest of the five of them. Furthermore there were also days where she suspected that her girlfriend was the most evil as well.
Nevertheless, Morgana's frown remained. More or less. Taking a visit into pursed lips.
"I made you coffee." Gwen bared her gift toward Morgana, soft grin fluttering across her face.
Definitely evil.
"I see." Morgana said in such a way that would have made proud the man who was clearly giving her girlfriend lessons on how to ruin her life, starting by making short work of her mornings.
She made a quick mental note to smack the moron - Merlin - who thought it was a good idea to do a meet the parents. Which only further went to prove that Morgana's ability to say no to Merlin was nearly as nonexistent as Arthur's. God. And she didn't even get the benefit of having sex with him. Not that she ever would. Unless ... Much too early for those thoughts.
Gwen's smile only dimmed for the briefest of moments, reemerging full force as Morgana wiggled her fingers as a sign that she wanted the cup between her palms. It was enough to make her shake the comforter off her shoulders in order to properly tug Gwen towards her for an apology by way of a kiss.
“Thank you.” She murmured, after brushing her lips against Gwen’s. Very slowly Gwen deepened the kiss and Morgana leaned up to meet her. Sucking ever so lightly on that bottom lip that was apart of that mouth that she loved, as she pulled away. “I’d be a lot more grateful, if I knew you weren’t trying to bribe me into something.”
Morgana didn’t even have the pleasure to enjoy Gwen’s momentarily dazed expression, though she did get to smirk over the sheepish one that washed over her girlfriend’s face as Gwen carefully sat down by Morgana’s legs. Legs that shifted easily so she could find better purchase on the bed.
“They’ve re-opened the larger ice skating pond.” One of the things that Morgana loved most about Gwen was how she easily combined contradictions with every stutter of her tongue. Every flirtatious quirk of her mouth. Like now, determination intertwined quite easily with uncertainty as Morgana was told what was wanted in that straight-forward manner of her girlfriend’s.
“And you’re hoping to bribe me into coming with you?” The question was punctuated with a rise of her brow and a sip of her coffee. It served as a distraction as Morgana sought to calculate a rough estimation of the amount of time that would be spent at the pond. She wasn’t even going to bother arguing against this because Morgana would allow Gwen anything she wanted. They both knew that and yet her girlfriend never asked for much. Not ever. Which was why she - usually - readily gave into Gwen’s desires. Because Gwen didn’t desire much from her but her presence.
Because come on. Morgana was brought flowers on a daily basis just because Gwen liked to see her smile. Morgana had never had a relationship like Gwen before. Someone who wanted her, as she was, much more than for what she could give them. Morgana would bring the world to it’s knees for Gwen. All that was asked of her was to wobble blearily along frozen water. That was all and she would do it. No point in arguing about it.
Unlike certain a certain blonde individual who saw it fit to argue with his significant other every step of the way, Morgana would receive snuggles when it was all said and done. The warmth of Gwen trumped the freezing nips of Jack Frost. In her mind, a little sacrifice with the result of cuddles was far better than arguing that lead to a sulking. Then again, in reality, Morgana was far more intelligent than Arthur. For obvious reasons.
“I think I’ve already succeeded.” Gwen responded. “We would have the entire place to ourselves for at least a good three hours -”
“Three hours, Gwen ...”
“ - but I think that an hour and a half should be enough before coming back to a nice brunch. Just you and me. No boys allowed to interrupt.”
It was those last five words that strummed through Morgana as she effortlessly made her way across the ice, with all the grace of the long-necked white creatures that made this frozen water their home during warmer seasons. It had pushed her into finishing up her coffee and added warmth while she had gotten dressed.
The thought of an entire afternoon with Gwen. Ice skating, brunch, and cuddles. An afternoon without sheepish Merlin needing one of them to help him with the pickle jar. Or Arthur using boredom as an excuse to spend time with them. Or Lancelot, with his head on Gwen’s lap, debating with her the importance of coloration and brush strokes during the Romantic period. It would be just them. It hadn’t been simply the two of them in some shape or form for longer since Merlin and Arthur had started dating. Arthur and Merlin had developed an inability to leave for anywhere without Lancelot tagging along, thus helping Lancelot to begin his not-so-discreet obsession with her girlfriend.
Morgana felt that had adapted quite well to the three added growths to her relationship which really were not part of her relationship at all. She was more patient with it than most women would be. Accepting of Lancelot’s puppy dog crush. Understanding of the fact that Merlin would be the one that Gwen went to with some things, and not herself. Even if the thought did curl a thin, yet tight, rope of possessiveness around her chest.
None of that was on the forefront of Morgana’s thoughts as those five little words had her concentrating on smiling. Concentrating on Gwen who idly turned on the ice.
“Morgana!” Gwen paused to watch as Morgana spun, taking to skates as if she were born to it. “You should pay more attention to where you’re going.” Her girlfriend’s concern cracked through her thoughts causing her to stop only to shoot Gwen a look of reassurance.
“I’m fine Gwen.” She stated, even though it was clear that Gwen didn’t believe that Morgana wouldn’t get it into her head to pull a move much too complicated and end with a head shattered on the ice.
She always worried that Morgana would push herself too far.
Skating up to Gwen, Morgana caught the other woman by her knit mittens and expertly spun her around. “Stop worrying so much.”
Gwen’s response - the only response acceptable if you asked Morgana - was laughter. Rich and low, as her face was whipped by the wind and her skates cut an odd circular shape against the ice.
A giggle pushed out white puffs of air as she pulled from Morgana’s grasp and she threw her arms around the taller woman’s neck. Gwen tugged at the knit cap on Morgana’s head and pulled her down for a kiss. Morgana does the same. Her mittened palm cupped the back of Gwen’s own snow cap. Quite similar to Morgana’s except for the ear flaps and the strings. And of course, color.
Of the five people who had received knitted hats from Hunith on Christmas, Morgana’s was the only one without the pom-poms. Even Arthur’s of red and brown was exactly like Gwen’s.
Gwen who had pulled back from the kiss, flushed both from Morgana’s warmth and the icy cold.