And after the crack, comes the femslash
Title: Lady in Waiting
Author: Ineptshieldmaid
Fandom: The BBC's Merlin
Rating: G
Spoiler Rating: None for the show, some for general Arthurian legend (set in the hypothetical show future).
Pairing: Gwen/Morgana (With all the legend and show canon of Arthur/Gwen, Gwen/Lancelot, Arthur/Morgana, everyone/everyone to go with it.)
Wordcount: 250
Disclaimer: Look, they don't even really belong the the BBC, let alone to me.
Prompt: 'Queen', at femslash100
You can’t get used to having someone else dress you, but when you brush your maid away, her eyes are wide and hurt. She brings you flowers, steals the scent of your hair, and when you brush her away, her hurt is so plain that you pull her forward and kiss her mouth. Just once. It doesn’t help.
You never wanted to be Queen. You wanted to be by her side, always her companion. You wanted to dress her, set her hair, paint her face, and when the people looked at her and loved her, you would have a part in that. You wanted to hear all her fears and keep them close to your heart, and to present her, fearless, to the world.
The people mistrust you. You are not wise enough, not faithful enough, not beautiful enough. You are not woman enough for Arthur. You are not queen enough for Camelot.
For the second time in your life you are sentenced to death. Your husband stares you down and his eyes are cold. This time, your old friend turns his eyes away, and your lover is nowhere to be found.
You thought you had a choice, between two kinds of right, and two kinds of wrong. A simple choice: Arthur, or Lancelot. You tried to have both, and it brings you to the execution dock.
In the end, you realise there had been a choice which was only right, but you let Morgana leave, alone, many years ago.
Author: Ineptshieldmaid
Fandom: The BBC's Merlin
Rating: G
Spoiler Rating: None for the show, some for general Arthurian legend (set in the hypothetical show future).
Pairing: Gwen/Morgana (With all the legend and show canon of Arthur/Gwen, Gwen/Lancelot, Arthur/Morgana, everyone/everyone to go with it.)
Wordcount: 250
Disclaimer: Look, they don't even really belong the the BBC, let alone to me.
Prompt: 'Queen', at femslash100
You can’t get used to having someone else dress you, but when you brush your maid away, her eyes are wide and hurt. She brings you flowers, steals the scent of your hair, and when you brush her away, her hurt is so plain that you pull her forward and kiss her mouth. Just once. It doesn’t help.
You never wanted to be Queen. You wanted to be by her side, always her companion. You wanted to dress her, set her hair, paint her face, and when the people looked at her and loved her, you would have a part in that. You wanted to hear all her fears and keep them close to your heart, and to present her, fearless, to the world.
The people mistrust you. You are not wise enough, not faithful enough, not beautiful enough. You are not woman enough for Arthur. You are not queen enough for Camelot.
For the second time in your life you are sentenced to death. Your husband stares you down and his eyes are cold. This time, your old friend turns his eyes away, and your lover is nowhere to be found.
You thought you had a choice, between two kinds of right, and two kinds of wrong. A simple choice: Arthur, or Lancelot. You tried to have both, and it brings you to the execution dock.
In the end, you realise there had been a choice which was only right, but you let Morgana leave, alone, many years ago.