Queen of My Heart (Gwen/Morgana - Preseries)
Title: Queen of My Heart
Fandom: Merlin
Characters/Pairings: Gwen/Morgana
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2,258
Summary: Preseries. Gwen teaches Morgana how to swim.
Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin, this is purely for entertainment purposes.
..
When Gwen had suggested teaching her how to swim, it had seemed Morgana like a perfectly innocent way to spend a midsummer’s day. But then the sun had smiled mischievously down on her and decided to torture her with weather that was achingly hot. She glared menacingly up at it with narrowed eyes, but quickly looked away. The sun won, painting red smudges of light over the green of the forest. With a sigh, she leaned back against the tree and tried resolutely not to look at Gwen. Who was naked. Or was at least in the process of becoming so.
“It is too hot for shifts, my lady,” Gwen had said innocently, sweat beading on her brow. “It will be cooler and easier to swim without.”
And it had been innocent. Morgana wasn’t entirely sure that Gwen could be anything but. Then again, there was that twinkle in her eye that Morgana was never entirely sure that she wasn’t imagining.
When Morgana chanced a glance in her maid’s direction, Gwen’s shift was falling to pool like folds of cream at her feet, leaving her utterly bare. Morgana shivered. She let her eyes trail down every inch of golden-brown skin, from Gwen’s subtly muscled shoulders, down the curve of her back to… She looked away. She would not be so bold or so irreverent as to look upon Gwen without her knowledge.
Quick and graceful, a blur in the corner of Morgana’s eyes, Gwen sprinted over the grass, onto the jetty and leapt into the water, leaving barely a ripple as she disappeared into the dreamily blue.
Morgana’s heart pounded. She waited for a second, then two more. Time stretched and still Gwen did not reappear. Fearful that she had drowned, Morgana leapt to her feet and let them carry her to the edge of the wooden jetty, her toes curling over the edge.
When Gwen broke the surface a moment later, tossing her wet hair out of her face like a mythical mermaid, Morgana almost fainted with relief. She dropped down on the smooth wood and let her feet dangle into the water as she tried to catch her breath.
“The water’s lovely,” Gwen said encouragingly, swimming back to the jetty. At the sight of Morgana’s pale cheeks she blushed, feeling foolish and insensitive. “Sorry. I forgot for a moment that you cannot swim.”
“I was afraid that you…”
“Oh,” Gwen’s blush deepened as she understood. “I apologise, my lady.”
Morgana looked even more embarrassed than she did. “It was me who overreacted. You need not apologise. It is just… I have never seen anyone dive into water that way.”
“Really?” Gwen asked, curiosity making her forget her shame for having scared her lady.
Morgana blushed and averted her eyes. “Uther has never let me near water. He says it is dangerous for a young girl.”
Gwen smiled reassuringly and touched Morgana’s knee. “You are not so young anymore, my lady. Most girls your age are already wed and have babes in their arms.”
“I know,” Morgana said, her embarrassment deepening. There was a reason she was not married. She had begged Uther to give her time, had said that she was not ready. He did not know that Gwen was the reason and that no length of time would be long enough.
“I promise there is nothing to be afraid of,” Gwen said sincerely. “I will be here to hold you up.”
With a solemn nod, Morgana stood, wobbling a little through nervousness, and slipped her shift off her shoulders. She disrobed in front of Gwen daily, but this felt different. They were not in her chambers, safely within the roles of lady and maid, and Gwen shyly averted her eyes. Morgana blushed down to her navel and slid too-quickly into the water with a graceless splash. Panicking, she reached out for the jetty and clung white-knuckled to its edge. There was water in her eyes and it stung. Rubbing them with her free hand only made them wetter.
“It’s all right, my lady,” Gwen said, her voice raised over the commotion. She caught Morgana’s wrist and pulled it away from her lady’s face. Morgana’s eyes remained screwed tight shut and she was clearly in pain. Gwen dropped her wrist and pulled herself half up onto the jetty, grabbed Morgana’s shift and pulled it to the edge to dab the water from Morgana’s eyes. “You can open them now,” she whispered, one hand unconsciously cradling Morgana’s jaw.
Morgana blinked blearily and waited for the world to resolve itself into something that made sense. It was hard to concentrate with Gwen’s warm hand on her jaw, her thumb soothingly caressing Morgana’s cheek.
“I am sorry,” Gwen murmured. “I should have told you that the water was salty. I did not think.”
Morgana smiled, still blinking. “You used to scold me that not thinking meant not caring.”
Gwen dropped her eyes and let her hand fall into the water. “I care, my lady.”
Morgana’s stomach dropped. “I didn’t mean to infer…” She was suddenly very cold despite the burning sun. “I am sorry.” They seemed to be doing nothing but apologise to one another. “I know that you care. Please, forgive me? ”
“There’s nothing to forgive, my lady,” Gwen said meekly. And this time, the formality did not sound like a term of endearment.
“Yes,” Morgana insisted, reaching for her, “there is.”
“Let me teach you to swim,” Gwen said, kicking her legs to propel herself backwards and out of Morgana’s reach. Her look told Morgana to forget about it and move on, knowing that Morgana would not argue.
Within the hour, Morgana managed an uncoordinated breaststroke out to the middle of the lake and back, her legs kicking white and froglike beneath the surface. Gwen smiled proudly as her pupil returned to her, grinning and splashing. She was a natural swimmer.
“A regular mermaid,” Gwen praised as Morgana neared her. “You will be swimming wings around me in no time.”
“All… down… to you,” Morgana panted, exhausted from the effort and gulping in more than a little saltwater in her attempt to speak. “You… make a… wonderful… teach-”
The sudden clapping sound of a dozen wings taking to the air shocked Morgana into silence and stillness. A flock of fattened wood pigeons shot up from the trees on the edge of the lake, startled into flight. The sound of the birds was quickly followed by the pounding of hooves on summer-hard ground and the high wail of the Pendragon hunting horn. Panic once again flooded Morgana’s body and she forgot all she had learned in her lesson.
Gwen, who had a quicker mind in a crisis, reached out and grabbed Morgana’s hand, yanking her under the cover of the jetty.
“We’ll be safe here, my lady,” she whispered, her hands on each of Morgana’s elbows, keeping her afloat. “No one will see us.”
Morgana was biting her lip almost hard enough to draw blood and her pupils had blown so large that her eyes were near black.
“What if they’re looking for me?” she whispered, shivering but not from cold.
“As far as I remember, it is not the season for hunting Wards,” Gwen replied, hoping for humour. But Morgana was skittish and the joke did nothing to ease her fears. All she did was cling to Gwen tighter.
“Morgana,” Gwen tried again, “they are just hunting. No one will even know that we are gone. If they did, they would be calling your name.”
The logic in that seemed to break through to Morgana a bit, and her flickering eyes fixed on Gwen’s.
“I… I suppose.”
Her mind turned to other things. Like how Gwen’s legs, kicking gently, slid against hers. She blushed.
“You’re all pink,” Gwen said with a slightly worried smile, running her eyes and then the tips of her fingers over Morgana’s exposed skin. “You’ve caught the sun.”
It was only then, with Gwen drawing her attention to it, that Morgana realised her skin was tingling.
“Does it hurt?” Gwen asked, pulling away her fingers when Morgana’s muscles shivered beneath her touch.
The answer was no, but Morgana knew that would not explain why Gwen’s touch had made her body react like that.
“Somewhat,” Morgana lied.
Gwen’s expression clearly showed her concern as she altered her kicking to let them both slip further into the water.
“How is that?” she asked once Morgana’s shoulders were underwater. She did not seem to have noticed that her move had also brought them closer together. Her worried expression deepened when Morgana did not answer.
Morgana’s mind swam with thoughts she knew that she should not have - thoughts of wrapping her shaking arms around Gwen’s waist and leaning in to kiss her salted lips. Desire thrummed through her and she wondered what it would feel like to have Gwen’s body pressed up against her from breast to thigh. The thoughts made her sun-kissed cheeks turn a darker shade of pink.
“Guinevere,” she began, only to be cut off by Gwen’s hand clamping quick as lightning over her mouth.
There were hooves clip-cloping on the jetty and the slits of yellow light dancing over Gwen’s sun-darkened shoulders disappeared. There was someone on horseback above them. Morgana wondered if the jetty was wide enough for the animal to turn around. Maybe. Just.
“Sire?” a man’s voice called from the shore. “Do you have a sight of where they went?”
Morgana’s blood ran cold. The horse above them hooved the wooden ground restlessly.
“There’s a flock headed southwest,” Arthur Pendragon called back, “that looks about the right size.”
He made a clicking sound with his tongue and his hunting horse - which Morgana knew to be an impressively powerful black destrier with a long wavy mane and tail - turned and trotted back to shore.
“We’ll go around the lake,” Arthur shouted to make sure that all his men heard him, “but we will have to be swift if we want to reach the flock before they bed down for the night.” He clicked again and the thunderous sound of half a hundred hooves pounding the dry earth filled the air.
“We are lucky that the Prince did not see our clothes,” Gwen said, privately wondering how much repair work the careless knights would have left her with, trampling over the forsaken garments. A sly thought came to her. “Or he might well have caught an indecent glimpse of you before the wedding.”
This time, Morgana’s blush was such that it caused her burnt cheeks to throb. Everyone knew that the only reason that Uther had not already married her off for politics was because he had designs on marrying her to his son as soon as he came of age. The thought both thrilled and terrified Morgana, who wished to stay in Camelot more than anything but felt ill at the mere thought of becoming Arthur’s wife and everything that entailed.
“Everyone in Camelot wants you as our next queen,” Gwen continued, jesting still, but meaning it. Everyone did want Morgana as their queen. There were even those who would have her married to Uther to have her be queen sooner. They missed the pageantry of having a queen and would all benefit from Morgana’s charitable heart. Gwen had to agree with them, if not unreservedly. She was not jealous. Well, not of Morgana.
“Everyone but me,” Morgana whispered. “A match between Arthur and I would make neither of us happy.”
Gwen swallowed, mustering the courage to ask why. “My lady, is there… What I mean is… Is there someone else your heart belongs to?”
Morgana snorted humourlessly, cocking her head and blinking furiously to hold back the flow of tears. She looked at Gwen, pleadingly for her to know the answer or else drop the subject and let her be.
Gwen let her gaze fall on Morgana’s salt-crystal crusted lips and then looked back to her lady’s eyes - asking wordlessly what she could never ask aloud. When Morgana’s eyes met hers they were as dark as a stormy sky, shifting up and down with Morgana’s deepening pants of breath. Slowly, Gwen slid the hand still supporting Morgana’s elbow up her arm and down her side to clutch at her waist. She pulled Morgana against her, breast to breast and hip to hip, and cupped her lady’s strong and noble jaw with her other hand. She loved the bold elegance of her lady’s jaw and found herself kissing it once, twice, three times in a trail up to her salt-swollen pink lips. And then she kissed her.
Morgana’s eyes fluttered closed and she allowed herself to be held and kissed, and quickly gathered the courage to repay Gwen in kind - wrapping her arms around Gwen’s neck and slipping her tongue into her opening mouth. She whimpered at the salty taste that she knew was because of the lake but would, to her from that moment on, always belong to Gwen.
They kissed and kissed until their breaths had left them and their bodies were shaking.
“The only queen I want to be is yours,” Morgana vowed, her lips still brushing against Gwen’s.
“Queen of my heart is all that a simple maid like me has to offer you,” Gwen said quietly, her head tilting down until her forehead met Morgana’s cheek.
“And no finer kingdom could I ask or ever long for,” Morgana swore, catching Gwen’s jaw with the tips of her fingers and drawing her into another salty kiss