The Night Before the Battle (Gwen/Morgana)
Title: The Night Before the Battle
Fandom: Merlin
Characters & Pairings: Gwen/Morgana
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~1,500
Summary: Set during 1x10.To Morgana, the night before the battle seems very much like her last chance.
Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin, this is purely for entertainment purposes.
It was strange how beautiful everything seemed the night before a battle. The moon was brilliant white in a sky that seemed full to bursting with stars, not a single cloud to hide them from view. If you turned on the spot you could count a hundred constellations, warriors and heroes from Old Greece defending beautiful women from fearsome beasts. There were a thousand stories of bravery and valour written in those stars that would never be forgotten, no matter how long the champions had been dust in the wind. Battle, or at least the idea of it, had always held a romantic mystery for her. It was something that people went away to do as she had stood on the balcony and watched them ride away, but it had never been something real. Not until now.
A single tear ran down her cheek.
“Morgana?”
She wiped the tear away and quickly turned around. “Gwen, I thought you were asleep.”
Gwen’s eyes were wide with worry. “I woke up and you were gone.”
Brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, Morgana said, “I couldn’t sleep. I didn’t want to wake you.”
Gwen sighed in that way the meant ‘you really do the strangest of things sometimes’ and maybe ‘whatever will I do with you’. “You should have woken me if you were having trouble sleeping. I packed plenty of your sleeping draught.”
Morgana shivered, suddenly feeling the cold. “You take such good care of me.”
Smiling, Gwen took the shawl from her own shoulders and wrapped it around Morgana’s. “You’re easy to take care of,” she said softly. “When you aren’t going walkabouts in the middle of the night, that is.” There was glint in her eye as she said that.
Laughing, Morgana pulled the shawl tighter. “Sorry.”
Now Gwen’s smile was fond, indulgent as she shook her head, telling Morgana that there was nothing to be sorry for.
Morgana sat down on the small bench and looked up at the sky. “Everything is so different out here.”
Following her gaze to the stars, Gwen sat down beside her. “It must seem very foreign,” she agreed. “Merlin is grateful to you for helping, even if he doesn’t say it quite like he should. He doesn’t really understand the court yet, he doesn’t know what a risk this is for you and Arthur.”
“And what about you?” Morgana asked, turning to Gwen and resting her head against the cool stone.
Gwen dropped Morgana’s gaze, embarrassed. “I’m always grateful.” Her head was brought back up with a delicate hand under her chin.
“That isn’t what I meant,” Morgana murmured.
“With you and Arthur, there is no way we could lose,” Gwen said quietly. “Of that I’m certain. There is no risk.”
“You have such faith is us,” Morgana said reverently. “Why?”
“At the risk of sounding treasonous,” Gwen said, looking deep into Morgana’s eyes to make sure that she believed her. She rested her head on the stone, just as Morgana had. “Camelot is waiting on baited breath for the day you and Arthur become king and queen. Together you are unconquerable, insurmountable. The people whisper of a new age of glory, they would follow you into hell itself with no fear.”
“Arthur and I...” Morgana began. “Arthur and I are unsuited to one another; it’s something we have both known for a long time.”
“You should be queen,” Gwen insisted softly. “The people love you most of all. Not one of them questions how good you would be for Camelot. Perhaps you will find that you and Arthur are more suited than you think.”
“I wish I could,” Morgana said, “but I cannot. Arthur will find his queen, but he will not find it in me.”
Not believing her Gwen said, “It’s a shame. I was quite looking forward to being the maid to the queen.”
“Then Arthur’s queen, whoever she will be, will be lucky to have you,” Morgana said, something akin to sadness in her eyes.
“I think,” Gwen said, “if you do not protest, I will stay with you, my lady. You will always be queen in my eyes.”
“You make me feel like a queen,” Morgana whispered, her gaze falling slightly from Gwen’s eyes. “Even in breeches and armour.”
“They suit you,” Gwen said boldly.
“I left money on your table, for the armour. I know you said not to but...”
“You shouldn’t have,” Gwen said. “My father was honoured to make it for you, he did not expect payment.”
“I know you told me that your father made it from off-cuts from his commissions, but I don’t believe you, not something this fine,” Morgana said, her hand going to where the mail had lain over her stomach. “I’ve never seen anything so supple yet so strong. I will tell Uther that he is a fool not to buy from your father.”
“Morgana... You know why he can’t.”
“Tom is the best smith in the kingdom, Uther’s intolerance is very probably costing him knights,” Morgana said with a fierce certainty that came from never being told that you could not do something because of who you are.
“We know our place, Morgana. We do not expect acceptance from the noble class,” Gwen said knowingly.
“I hope,” Morgana paused as if unsure, “you do not consider me that way.”
“No, you are...” Gwen struggled to find the words, her tongue was not as honeyed as Morgana’s, “something else,” she settled on.” You treat me as if we are equals, something no commoner has a right to expect, let alone someone like me.” Her heart clenched at Morgana’s pained expression. “I know my place, Morgana, and I accept it. No one in the town treats me any differently than they would Merlin. Camelot is a tolerant kingdom, but it can only go so far.”
“You are my equal,” Morgana whispered, reaching out without thinking to brush Gwen’s hair back from her face. “There is no one on this earth that I love more than you.” She seemed surprised to hear herself say it, as if she hadn’t intended to say it aloud. Though she immediately followed it with, “I mean it. You are precious to me.”
Gwen didn’t say anything, just tried to keep breathing as Morgana’s fingers, still touching her, traced across her cheek.
“When Uther charged you with sorcery, I felt as though my heart were breaking piece by piece.”
“My father,” Gwen began shakily, “still talks of how you saved me. He is overwhelmed by you.”
“And you?” Morgana asked, slowly, almost unknowingly moving closer to Gwen.
“I have always been overwhelmed, my lady.”
Her hand still at Gwen’s cheek, Morgana leant forward and kissed her. It was the barest of touches; a flutter of a kiss that they could both pretend was nothing more than a friend’s affection. “If I die tomorrow...” Morgana whispered, but Gwen cut her off.
“You won’t,” the maid insisted a silent tear spilling down her cheek.
“If I die,” she moved closer to kiss the salty tear away, “I need you to know this.” She kissed her again, properly this time, and Gwen could not help but open up to her, giving her everything. “I need you to know,” Morgana whispered, breathing laboured and eyes closed as she rested their foreheads together, “that it is for you I would gladly walk into the flames of hell, for you that I would give my life for. That the reason I could never be Arthur’s queen, is because I am already yours.”
On the second story of an empty barn, Morgana lay on a bed of hay and looked up at the stars through the thinly hatched roof. It was strange how beautiful everything seemed the night before a battle. The moon was brilliant white in a sky that seemed full to bursting with stars, not a single cloud to hide them from view. There were a thousand stories of bravery and valour written in those stars that would never be forgotten, no matter how long the champions had been dust in the wind. A thousand battles had been fought and lost and despite all of this, she felt calm.
“Go to sleep, Morgana,” Gwen murmured against her neck.
Morgana smiled and kissed the top of her head. “Yes, dear.”
It felt like the end of the world and the very beginning, all at the same time. It was the night before a battle and it was beautiful.
Fandom: Merlin
Characters & Pairings: Gwen/Morgana
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~1,500
Summary: Set during 1x10.To Morgana, the night before the battle seems very much like her last chance.
Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin, this is purely for entertainment purposes.
It was strange how beautiful everything seemed the night before a battle. The moon was brilliant white in a sky that seemed full to bursting with stars, not a single cloud to hide them from view. If you turned on the spot you could count a hundred constellations, warriors and heroes from Old Greece defending beautiful women from fearsome beasts. There were a thousand stories of bravery and valour written in those stars that would never be forgotten, no matter how long the champions had been dust in the wind. Battle, or at least the idea of it, had always held a romantic mystery for her. It was something that people went away to do as she had stood on the balcony and watched them ride away, but it had never been something real. Not until now.
A single tear ran down her cheek.
“Morgana?”
She wiped the tear away and quickly turned around. “Gwen, I thought you were asleep.”
Gwen’s eyes were wide with worry. “I woke up and you were gone.”
Brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, Morgana said, “I couldn’t sleep. I didn’t want to wake you.”
Gwen sighed in that way the meant ‘you really do the strangest of things sometimes’ and maybe ‘whatever will I do with you’. “You should have woken me if you were having trouble sleeping. I packed plenty of your sleeping draught.”
Morgana shivered, suddenly feeling the cold. “You take such good care of me.”
Smiling, Gwen took the shawl from her own shoulders and wrapped it around Morgana’s. “You’re easy to take care of,” she said softly. “When you aren’t going walkabouts in the middle of the night, that is.” There was glint in her eye as she said that.
Laughing, Morgana pulled the shawl tighter. “Sorry.”
Now Gwen’s smile was fond, indulgent as she shook her head, telling Morgana that there was nothing to be sorry for.
Morgana sat down on the small bench and looked up at the sky. “Everything is so different out here.”
Following her gaze to the stars, Gwen sat down beside her. “It must seem very foreign,” she agreed. “Merlin is grateful to you for helping, even if he doesn’t say it quite like he should. He doesn’t really understand the court yet, he doesn’t know what a risk this is for you and Arthur.”
“And what about you?” Morgana asked, turning to Gwen and resting her head against the cool stone.
Gwen dropped Morgana’s gaze, embarrassed. “I’m always grateful.” Her head was brought back up with a delicate hand under her chin.
“That isn’t what I meant,” Morgana murmured.
“With you and Arthur, there is no way we could lose,” Gwen said quietly. “Of that I’m certain. There is no risk.”
“You have such faith is us,” Morgana said reverently. “Why?”
“At the risk of sounding treasonous,” Gwen said, looking deep into Morgana’s eyes to make sure that she believed her. She rested her head on the stone, just as Morgana had. “Camelot is waiting on baited breath for the day you and Arthur become king and queen. Together you are unconquerable, insurmountable. The people whisper of a new age of glory, they would follow you into hell itself with no fear.”
“Arthur and I...” Morgana began. “Arthur and I are unsuited to one another; it’s something we have both known for a long time.”
“You should be queen,” Gwen insisted softly. “The people love you most of all. Not one of them questions how good you would be for Camelot. Perhaps you will find that you and Arthur are more suited than you think.”
“I wish I could,” Morgana said, “but I cannot. Arthur will find his queen, but he will not find it in me.”
Not believing her Gwen said, “It’s a shame. I was quite looking forward to being the maid to the queen.”
“Then Arthur’s queen, whoever she will be, will be lucky to have you,” Morgana said, something akin to sadness in her eyes.
“I think,” Gwen said, “if you do not protest, I will stay with you, my lady. You will always be queen in my eyes.”
“You make me feel like a queen,” Morgana whispered, her gaze falling slightly from Gwen’s eyes. “Even in breeches and armour.”
“They suit you,” Gwen said boldly.
“I left money on your table, for the armour. I know you said not to but...”
“You shouldn’t have,” Gwen said. “My father was honoured to make it for you, he did not expect payment.”
“I know you told me that your father made it from off-cuts from his commissions, but I don’t believe you, not something this fine,” Morgana said, her hand going to where the mail had lain over her stomach. “I’ve never seen anything so supple yet so strong. I will tell Uther that he is a fool not to buy from your father.”
“Morgana... You know why he can’t.”
“Tom is the best smith in the kingdom, Uther’s intolerance is very probably costing him knights,” Morgana said with a fierce certainty that came from never being told that you could not do something because of who you are.
“We know our place, Morgana. We do not expect acceptance from the noble class,” Gwen said knowingly.
“I hope,” Morgana paused as if unsure, “you do not consider me that way.”
“No, you are...” Gwen struggled to find the words, her tongue was not as honeyed as Morgana’s, “something else,” she settled on.” You treat me as if we are equals, something no commoner has a right to expect, let alone someone like me.” Her heart clenched at Morgana’s pained expression. “I know my place, Morgana, and I accept it. No one in the town treats me any differently than they would Merlin. Camelot is a tolerant kingdom, but it can only go so far.”
“You are my equal,” Morgana whispered, reaching out without thinking to brush Gwen’s hair back from her face. “There is no one on this earth that I love more than you.” She seemed surprised to hear herself say it, as if she hadn’t intended to say it aloud. Though she immediately followed it with, “I mean it. You are precious to me.”
Gwen didn’t say anything, just tried to keep breathing as Morgana’s fingers, still touching her, traced across her cheek.
“When Uther charged you with sorcery, I felt as though my heart were breaking piece by piece.”
“My father,” Gwen began shakily, “still talks of how you saved me. He is overwhelmed by you.”
“And you?” Morgana asked, slowly, almost unknowingly moving closer to Gwen.
“I have always been overwhelmed, my lady.”
Her hand still at Gwen’s cheek, Morgana leant forward and kissed her. It was the barest of touches; a flutter of a kiss that they could both pretend was nothing more than a friend’s affection. “If I die tomorrow...” Morgana whispered, but Gwen cut her off.
“You won’t,” the maid insisted a silent tear spilling down her cheek.
“If I die,” she moved closer to kiss the salty tear away, “I need you to know this.” She kissed her again, properly this time, and Gwen could not help but open up to her, giving her everything. “I need you to know,” Morgana whispered, breathing laboured and eyes closed as she rested their foreheads together, “that it is for you I would gladly walk into the flames of hell, for you that I would give my life for. That the reason I could never be Arthur’s queen, is because I am already yours.”
On the second story of an empty barn, Morgana lay on a bed of hay and looked up at the stars through the thinly hatched roof. It was strange how beautiful everything seemed the night before a battle. The moon was brilliant white in a sky that seemed full to bursting with stars, not a single cloud to hide them from view. There were a thousand stories of bravery and valour written in those stars that would never be forgotten, no matter how long the champions had been dust in the wind. A thousand battles had been fought and lost and despite all of this, she felt calm.
“Go to sleep, Morgana,” Gwen murmured against her neck.
Morgana smiled and kissed the top of her head. “Yes, dear.”
It felt like the end of the world and the very beginning, all at the same time. It was the night before a battle and it was beautiful.