Queen of Fake Smiles (Merlin)
Title: Queen of Fake Smiles
Author: julesoh
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Merlin
Pairing: Gwen/Lancelot, implied Arthur/Merlin
Word Count: 643
Summary: Gwen has been training to be queen all her life. She just never knew it.
Notes: Written for the third challenge at merlin_las, for the prompt Gwen and Lancelot, no more than 650 words.
When Gwen was just six years old, her mother had asked her from her sickbed what she wanted to be when she grew up.
Gwen, enjoying spending time with her mother in one of her lucid moments - which had become increasingly infrequent as her health deteriorated and the kindly physician’s potions grew stronger - decided quickly on her answer. “A princess,” she said. “A queen.”
“Queen Guinevere,” her mother had said, delighted, testing the words on her tongue and approving. “You would make a good queen, fair and just.” Her eyes grew dark and she clasped Gwen’s hand tightly. “A good queen must always remember to smile, Gwen, even when she is very sad, or has suffered great tragedy. A queen’s smile gives strength to her friends, her family, and her people. It keeps those around her from growing sad themselves. Do you think you could do that?”
Gwen did not understand the desperation in her mother’s gaunt face until two weeks later, at her funeral. She looked up at her father’s red-rimmed eyes and blinked her own tears away, and made herself smile.
---
“Don’t go,” Gwen begs, voice breaking. “Please, Lancelot.”
Lancelot moves closer, and lifts a hand to her cheek, brushing the dampness away with his thumb.
“I have to,” he murmurs, and leans in to capture her lips with his own, gentle and secure.
She responds with a muffled sob against his mouth, and when he pulls away there are fresh tears coursing down her face. “I’m sorry,” she gasps, and Lancelot strokes her hair.
“You are so beautiful,” he says, and Gwen looks at him disbelievingly, and sniffs and summons her well-used smile. “Don’t!” Lancelot says at the quirk of her mouth, and cups her cheek. “Your tears are real.”
When they kiss again, Gwen does not blink her tears away, and it is salty and wet and awkward, but Lancelot does not seem to mind.
Gwen links her arms around his neck, and wonders how to smile when she really means it.
---
Gwen’s cheeks ache at the end of every day from the effort of holding the corners of her mouth up: her eyes are stiff and her lips are sore from strain.
She lets her smile fall with a groan of relief as she runs a brush through Morgana’s hair; allows herself to frown as she detangles the glossy strands.
“You look unhappy, Gwen,” Morgana says, watching her in the mirror. “Your smile makes my days pass quicker - what can I do to bring yours back?”
Gwen takes a breath and looks up, meeting Morgana’s eyes in the glass. “I’m fine, my lady,” she says, and curves her lips in a well-practised motion. “I’m fine.”
---
There is an apology in Arthur’s eyes as he kisses his queen goodbye, though Gwen does not see it, her eyes fixed on Lancelot as he mounts his horse. She can feel the regret as Arthur presses cool lips to hers, though, and as he takes his queen in his arms, he whispers in her ear, “Keep smiling.”
She twists her mouth into the familiar expression, and prays her smile does not look so brittle and false as Morgana’s beside her. She means it when she tells Arthur to be careful, but the icy chill in her bones does not come from fear for him alone.
“I will leave you to your queen’s duty,” Morgana says, turning away as Arthur and Lancelot lead their men out. Gwen spares a glance for Merlin, riding alongside them, and tries not to grimace at the familiar jealousy - that she cannot accompany her loved one to battle, yet Merlin is allowed to stay at Arthur’s side.
The last of the battalion disappears among the trees, and Gwen turns away too, back to her castle and her people, their faces a grim collective as their leader heads towards possible death.
She does what she has trained herself to do, and smiles.
Author: julesoh
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Merlin
Pairing: Gwen/Lancelot, implied Arthur/Merlin
Word Count: 643
Summary: Gwen has been training to be queen all her life. She just never knew it.
Notes: Written for the third challenge at merlin_las, for the prompt Gwen and Lancelot, no more than 650 words.
When Gwen was just six years old, her mother had asked her from her sickbed what she wanted to be when she grew up.
Gwen, enjoying spending time with her mother in one of her lucid moments - which had become increasingly infrequent as her health deteriorated and the kindly physician’s potions grew stronger - decided quickly on her answer. “A princess,” she said. “A queen.”
“Queen Guinevere,” her mother had said, delighted, testing the words on her tongue and approving. “You would make a good queen, fair and just.” Her eyes grew dark and she clasped Gwen’s hand tightly. “A good queen must always remember to smile, Gwen, even when she is very sad, or has suffered great tragedy. A queen’s smile gives strength to her friends, her family, and her people. It keeps those around her from growing sad themselves. Do you think you could do that?”
Gwen did not understand the desperation in her mother’s gaunt face until two weeks later, at her funeral. She looked up at her father’s red-rimmed eyes and blinked her own tears away, and made herself smile.
---
“Don’t go,” Gwen begs, voice breaking. “Please, Lancelot.”
Lancelot moves closer, and lifts a hand to her cheek, brushing the dampness away with his thumb.
“I have to,” he murmurs, and leans in to capture her lips with his own, gentle and secure.
She responds with a muffled sob against his mouth, and when he pulls away there are fresh tears coursing down her face. “I’m sorry,” she gasps, and Lancelot strokes her hair.
“You are so beautiful,” he says, and Gwen looks at him disbelievingly, and sniffs and summons her well-used smile. “Don’t!” Lancelot says at the quirk of her mouth, and cups her cheek. “Your tears are real.”
When they kiss again, Gwen does not blink her tears away, and it is salty and wet and awkward, but Lancelot does not seem to mind.
Gwen links her arms around his neck, and wonders how to smile when she really means it.
---
Gwen’s cheeks ache at the end of every day from the effort of holding the corners of her mouth up: her eyes are stiff and her lips are sore from strain.
She lets her smile fall with a groan of relief as she runs a brush through Morgana’s hair; allows herself to frown as she detangles the glossy strands.
“You look unhappy, Gwen,” Morgana says, watching her in the mirror. “Your smile makes my days pass quicker - what can I do to bring yours back?”
Gwen takes a breath and looks up, meeting Morgana’s eyes in the glass. “I’m fine, my lady,” she says, and curves her lips in a well-practised motion. “I’m fine.”
---
There is an apology in Arthur’s eyes as he kisses his queen goodbye, though Gwen does not see it, her eyes fixed on Lancelot as he mounts his horse. She can feel the regret as Arthur presses cool lips to hers, though, and as he takes his queen in his arms, he whispers in her ear, “Keep smiling.”
She twists her mouth into the familiar expression, and prays her smile does not look so brittle and false as Morgana’s beside her. She means it when she tells Arthur to be careful, but the icy chill in her bones does not come from fear for him alone.
“I will leave you to your queen’s duty,” Morgana says, turning away as Arthur and Lancelot lead their men out. Gwen spares a glance for Merlin, riding alongside them, and tries not to grimace at the familiar jealousy - that she cannot accompany her loved one to battle, yet Merlin is allowed to stay at Arthur’s side.
The last of the battalion disappears among the trees, and Gwen turns away too, back to her castle and her people, their faces a grim collective as their leader heads towards possible death.
She does what she has trained herself to do, and smiles.