Smoke And Mirrors 1/3
Title: Smoke And Mirrors 1/3
Rating/Warnings: PG
Characters/Pairings: Arthur/Guinevere, Morgana
Spoilers: Nope
Disclaimer: I own nothing =[
Summary: Arthur and Gwen in the Victoria era
Word Count: 2,283
Author’s notes: for Camelot_love’s 14 days of love. Prompt was was U-43.Historical AU fic not set in the Medieval times/time period of the show - e.g. Arthur and Gwen meeting in perhaps the Victorian period? (Or Regency or Elizabethan - or whenever, as long as its not Modern or Medieval). (HISTORICAL) and was prompted by thedreamygirl I chose to set mine in the Victorian era. This one ran away with me, I was evidently having way to much fun writing it, so I’ve split it into three parts to make it easier. Hope you all enjoy reading it
Comments are ♥
Smoke And Mirrors:Part One
“If I have to listen to those ladies gossip one more time I think I may just throw myself off the balcony!” Morgana threw her arms out theatrically and made a motion as if she was about to run to the long, almost floor length, window of her bedroom and plummet to her death. Gwen was currently holding the black lace of her mistress’s corset and so was pulled along with her, shocking her. As they approached the window, the curtains had not been pulled as Morgana had insisting on allowing the fading light of the sun stream through, Gwen let out a startled cry.
“Miss no, you’re still only in your chemise.” Morgana stopped and swirled around; the lace of her corset flying out of Gwen’s hard worked hands and began laughing. As she turned her blue eyes to look herself up and down Morgana gestured to her attire.
“Yes I suppose you’re right, if I’m going to plummet to my death I may as well look my best, how very thoughtful of you Gwen.”
Gwen smiled a little, she should remain quiet now, hold her tongue but she’d been Morgana’s lady’s maid for years; pretty much from the start of her working life. Though it was unusual for a girl of her age to be in such a position, the lady’s maids in other households being much older than Gwen herself, Morgana had insisted Gwen have the position once Annabelle left after having children of her own, when Morgana had been only 14. Before that time Gwen had been a “between maid” doing whatever it was that was required of her and had been under the supervision of the house maid Margaret. It had been extremely hard work, by the end of the day her body exhausted to the point where she felt she might collapse. Up and down the stairs she had gone, lugging up hot water for baths from the basement up to the third floor where the bedrooms lay, hauled buckets of coal up each flight of stairs for all the fire places, tended fires and lamps. Scrubbed, polished, washed, brushed carpets, beat rugs, ironed, swept, cleaned over and over every day, 6.00am to 10.30pm, the never ending tide of work.
Somehow, Gwen could never really place how it had happened, by all rights it never should have but she and Morgana had crossed paths and formed a friendship faster than a bee sting and it had eventually led to Gwen’s rise in rank in the servants’ world. Now she no longer had to report to Margaret, only to her mistress, she had a more comfy and privileged lifestyle than the lower servants endured. Her duties where greatly cut down from the manic-ness of her previous position. They were simplified to dressing, undressing her mistress, maintaining her wardrobe, washing her delicates, styling her hair, preparing lotions, dress making and other such things. The work was less physically taxing but she still had lots to do and was at Morgana’s beck and call every moment of everyday. Not that she minded, Gwen had always felt rather suited to hard work, perhaps it was due to her mother’s early death and having to look after the house while her father worked, maybe it was just in her blood, her destiny.
Whatever it was Gwen was quite contented in her life, she had it lucky really. She was earning higher wages than most girls her age and unlike other lady’s maids she did not feel isolated from the other servants; her kind, truthful, loving nature endearing her to them so that when her position elevated they did not feel that she was suddenly haughty or would tattle on them. Also contrasting from others in her position Gwen did not feel her job was under threat because of her age, her wage was not lessening over the years and she had a strong bond with her mistress.
“I was more concerned with people seeing you like this miss.” Gwen spoke quietly as she began to lace the corset and tightening it. Morgana let out a huff of air as the material and bones constricted around her body before replying.
“Aaahh I see, well yes Uther would practically die if I prance around in front of people in my current attire.”
Gwen pulled at the lace some more before finally making a neat bow to fasten it, then reached for the under petticoat. Morgana continued to speak.
“Not to mention it would cause a sandal, I mean could you image what those gossiping geese would do with that one…I can just hear them now, did you hear Morgana was seen prancing around in just her chemise and corset…..well I heard it was just her corset….gasp….noooo…yesss…you know I always said there was too much sparkle in her eyes… a hunger for something, so un-lady like….yes and did you see the way she smiled at that servant boy at the last party she attended ”
Gwen smothered her giggles with her hand as Morgana continued to have a three way conversation with herself mimicking the voices of the ladies she was referring to so well that if Gwen wasn’t in the room she would have sworn the ladies were present themselves. Morgana even had the pitch of their voices down. Morgana herself broke out into giggles and the sound broke Gwen resolve and her own laughter came bubbling out from behind her lips. Laughing together still, they struggled to get the hoop petticoat over Morgana’s body, which in turn led to more laughter and then the over petticoat became even harder; Gwen’s concentration failing her as her sides began to hurt. Eventually they were in hysterics and Morgana had to bend over her bed, clutching her side and taking deep breaths in order to calm herself. Gwen had retreated to the wardrobe, looking through the dresses as she tried to regain control over herself. Finally they calmed down and Morgana made her way next to Gwen looking over her shoulder of the dresses Gwen was flicking through.
“The blue one,” Morgana spoke, and then made her way in front of the mirror as Gwen slipped it over her head. Slowly she smoothed down the material making sure it looked impeccable, and that each thread and lace was in its proper place. When Gwen was satisfied she stood back and allowed Morgana to examine herself in the glass. The light was fading quite fast now, night nearly upon them. The ball would soon be starting and they did not have long till the impatient bellowing voice of Uther, the master of the house came echoing up, that or a servant would soon be knocking on the door.
Morgana looked stunning, her ivory skin showing up splendidly against the dark colour of the material. Her form was slender and perfect, in truth Gwen always thought Morgana had no need for the corset, her shape needed no correction in her opinion, but it was the fashion and heaven forbid that you become out of fashion in the world Morgana ran in. Her father Uther, well in truth Uther was not Morgana’s true father, he’d died long ago when Morgana had been but a snip of a girl and Uther, a close friend had taken her in but for all intents and purposes. Uther himself had a son, Arthur. Igraine, Uther’s wife and Arthur’s mother had perished while giving birth and not long after that Uther had taken in Morgana. This had caused quite a rumpus in society. Some people fluttering over how kind Uther was to welcome her into his home and arms when he already had a young son and was still grieving for his late wife. Others whispered that it was out of guilt for it was rumoured that one of Uther’s investment ventures, which was not so honourable, was the reason her father was dead in the first place. However, no matter what your thoughts of Uther it was undeniable that he held a certain command over people and was incredibly well off. His investments, underhanded or not, gave great return and so his children wanted for nothing.
“You know Charles Worth may be expensive but one can’t deny that he creates some stunning dresses.”
Morgana turned from the glass satisfied with the dress and beckoned Gwen to fetch some accessories. As Gwen placed the bracelet on Morgana’s left wrist, her heart clenched slightly at the diamond ring resting on her ring finger; an ever constant reminder to the world of her engagement. Gwen ducked her head, turning her eyes away from the ring, she moved on, concentrating on the necklace that was yet to grace her mistress’s skin. Just as Gwen was finishing fastening the necklace set with deep blue sapphires and diamonds that matched her dress, earrings and brooch, around Morgana’s throat, a knock came at the door. Morgana turned her head calling out for the intruder to enter. The oak door opened and in burst in the tall figure of Arthur. He was dressed impeccably. His wing tipped shirt was a crisp clear white and his pants a dark jet black contrasting with the white. He wore suspenders that no doubt matched the darkness of his trousers but the silk vest over the top of his shirt, deep blue and rich in colour hid them from view. He also wore a formal tailcoat, a silk puff tie that matched in colour and pattern to his vest. A gold pocket watch, a pair of leather dress gloves and a top hat held in Arthur’s free hand, the one that wasn’t currently holding the door knob, finished off his look. Gwen made the silent observation that he and Morgana matched wonderfully together and the notion made her heart ache a little.
Before Morgana could speak, Arthur had made a bee line towards Gwen, dropping his hat on the side table near the door as he did so and enfolded her in his arms. The enthusiastic embrace shocked Gwen and she found herself blushing as he squeezed her tighter lifting her clear off her feet, so they were now dangling mid air. Though her cheeks where still flushing furiously she soon fond herself hugging him back, her arms resting themselves around his neck and squeezing back lightly. In reality the hug lasted only a few seconds but it seemed to be much longer than that. Gwen was deadly aware that Morgana was present, watching them and that the door was open so anyone passing would see the events. Finally Arthur set her down and drew back to look at her, Gwen met his gaze and from the way his eyes where shinning she almost believed he was about to in lean in and kiss her, something that was most inappropriate, with the company they held, more so than the hugging, though that in itself was not wise.
When Arthur’s hand came up to her face Gwen shifted back slightly, unsure of what it was he was about to do. Arthur smirked a little as if reading her thoughts and brushed his fingers lightly against her skin, making it tingle and melt her heart, before tucking a lose curl behind Gwen’s ear and smiling. Gwen smiled back, getting swept up in the moment until Morgana coughed loudly, shaking Arthur and her from their current thoughts and bringing them back into the room. Gwen’s eyes immediately darted to the floor, her cheeks burning devilishly again as she wrung her hands together nervously. Arthur completely unabashed turned to face Morgana.
“Yes?” he inquired, tone slightly annoyed.
Morgana huffed, eyes narrowing.
“Excuse me, you’re the one who barged in here, just made a big old scene, which by the way is completely inappropriate to be doing in front of others, especially your fiancée, where’s your sense of honour?”
Morgana waved her left hand in front of his face flashing the ring, making Arthur roll his eyes and strain an insipid smile, Morgana replying in kind. Gwen stayed silent, thankful she was not in the lime light right now but also embarrassed at Morgana’s comments and slightly wounded by the reminder of their engagement.
“Fake fiancée” Arthur replied throwing Gwen a smile as if he knew the constant reminder of this arrangement bothered her, her lips curled upwards ever so slightly in response.
“Tell that to those hovering busy bodies we’ll see tonight…” and then retorting back into the voice imitation she had done early Morgana continued.
“O Morgana you’re so lucky, Arthur Pendrgon, he’s so handsome, and wonderful, you must be thrilled that it is you that holds his heart, I’m so jealous, how can you possibly want to wait two years, I’d want to get married the day he proposed, o do tell us the story of his proposal again, please Morgana,” Morgana flapped her hands, clasping them together and fanning herself in a manic squealing fashion. Gwen couldn’t help but be amused, Arthur himself chuckling lightly.
“Honestly I hope you appreciate the things I do and go through for you…you two” she corrected herself as he eyes drifted onto Gwen.
“Excuse me but this was all your idea in the first place, don’t act like this arrangement doesn’t help you more than us Morgana; did you want to marry Mr. Teller?” Arthur said waving his hand, dismissing her comments.
Morgana nodded in agreement, he was right. There was no way she was going to marry that imbecile of a man. The very thought of being his wife sent shivers of dread up and down her spine, She had contemplated running away but then the idea had struck.
Part Two
Rating/Warnings: PG
Characters/Pairings: Arthur/Guinevere, Morgana
Spoilers: Nope
Disclaimer: I own nothing =[
Summary: Arthur and Gwen in the Victoria era
Word Count: 2,283
Author’s notes: for Camelot_love’s 14 days of love. Prompt was was U-43.Historical AU fic not set in the Medieval times/time period of the show - e.g. Arthur and Gwen meeting in perhaps the Victorian period? (Or Regency or Elizabethan - or whenever, as long as its not Modern or Medieval). (HISTORICAL) and was prompted by thedreamygirl I chose to set mine in the Victorian era. This one ran away with me, I was evidently having way to much fun writing it, so I’ve split it into three parts to make it easier. Hope you all enjoy reading it
Comments are ♥
Smoke And Mirrors:Part One
“If I have to listen to those ladies gossip one more time I think I may just throw myself off the balcony!” Morgana threw her arms out theatrically and made a motion as if she was about to run to the long, almost floor length, window of her bedroom and plummet to her death. Gwen was currently holding the black lace of her mistress’s corset and so was pulled along with her, shocking her. As they approached the window, the curtains had not been pulled as Morgana had insisting on allowing the fading light of the sun stream through, Gwen let out a startled cry.
“Miss no, you’re still only in your chemise.” Morgana stopped and swirled around; the lace of her corset flying out of Gwen’s hard worked hands and began laughing. As she turned her blue eyes to look herself up and down Morgana gestured to her attire.
“Yes I suppose you’re right, if I’m going to plummet to my death I may as well look my best, how very thoughtful of you Gwen.”
Gwen smiled a little, she should remain quiet now, hold her tongue but she’d been Morgana’s lady’s maid for years; pretty much from the start of her working life. Though it was unusual for a girl of her age to be in such a position, the lady’s maids in other households being much older than Gwen herself, Morgana had insisted Gwen have the position once Annabelle left after having children of her own, when Morgana had been only 14. Before that time Gwen had been a “between maid” doing whatever it was that was required of her and had been under the supervision of the house maid Margaret. It had been extremely hard work, by the end of the day her body exhausted to the point where she felt she might collapse. Up and down the stairs she had gone, lugging up hot water for baths from the basement up to the third floor where the bedrooms lay, hauled buckets of coal up each flight of stairs for all the fire places, tended fires and lamps. Scrubbed, polished, washed, brushed carpets, beat rugs, ironed, swept, cleaned over and over every day, 6.00am to 10.30pm, the never ending tide of work.
Somehow, Gwen could never really place how it had happened, by all rights it never should have but she and Morgana had crossed paths and formed a friendship faster than a bee sting and it had eventually led to Gwen’s rise in rank in the servants’ world. Now she no longer had to report to Margaret, only to her mistress, she had a more comfy and privileged lifestyle than the lower servants endured. Her duties where greatly cut down from the manic-ness of her previous position. They were simplified to dressing, undressing her mistress, maintaining her wardrobe, washing her delicates, styling her hair, preparing lotions, dress making and other such things. The work was less physically taxing but she still had lots to do and was at Morgana’s beck and call every moment of everyday. Not that she minded, Gwen had always felt rather suited to hard work, perhaps it was due to her mother’s early death and having to look after the house while her father worked, maybe it was just in her blood, her destiny.
Whatever it was Gwen was quite contented in her life, she had it lucky really. She was earning higher wages than most girls her age and unlike other lady’s maids she did not feel isolated from the other servants; her kind, truthful, loving nature endearing her to them so that when her position elevated they did not feel that she was suddenly haughty or would tattle on them. Also contrasting from others in her position Gwen did not feel her job was under threat because of her age, her wage was not lessening over the years and she had a strong bond with her mistress.
“I was more concerned with people seeing you like this miss.” Gwen spoke quietly as she began to lace the corset and tightening it. Morgana let out a huff of air as the material and bones constricted around her body before replying.
“Aaahh I see, well yes Uther would practically die if I prance around in front of people in my current attire.”
Gwen pulled at the lace some more before finally making a neat bow to fasten it, then reached for the under petticoat. Morgana continued to speak.
“Not to mention it would cause a sandal, I mean could you image what those gossiping geese would do with that one…I can just hear them now, did you hear Morgana was seen prancing around in just her chemise and corset…..well I heard it was just her corset….gasp….noooo…yesss…you know I always said there was too much sparkle in her eyes… a hunger for something, so un-lady like….yes and did you see the way she smiled at that servant boy at the last party she attended ”
Gwen smothered her giggles with her hand as Morgana continued to have a three way conversation with herself mimicking the voices of the ladies she was referring to so well that if Gwen wasn’t in the room she would have sworn the ladies were present themselves. Morgana even had the pitch of their voices down. Morgana herself broke out into giggles and the sound broke Gwen resolve and her own laughter came bubbling out from behind her lips. Laughing together still, they struggled to get the hoop petticoat over Morgana’s body, which in turn led to more laughter and then the over petticoat became even harder; Gwen’s concentration failing her as her sides began to hurt. Eventually they were in hysterics and Morgana had to bend over her bed, clutching her side and taking deep breaths in order to calm herself. Gwen had retreated to the wardrobe, looking through the dresses as she tried to regain control over herself. Finally they calmed down and Morgana made her way next to Gwen looking over her shoulder of the dresses Gwen was flicking through.
“The blue one,” Morgana spoke, and then made her way in front of the mirror as Gwen slipped it over her head. Slowly she smoothed down the material making sure it looked impeccable, and that each thread and lace was in its proper place. When Gwen was satisfied she stood back and allowed Morgana to examine herself in the glass. The light was fading quite fast now, night nearly upon them. The ball would soon be starting and they did not have long till the impatient bellowing voice of Uther, the master of the house came echoing up, that or a servant would soon be knocking on the door.
Morgana looked stunning, her ivory skin showing up splendidly against the dark colour of the material. Her form was slender and perfect, in truth Gwen always thought Morgana had no need for the corset, her shape needed no correction in her opinion, but it was the fashion and heaven forbid that you become out of fashion in the world Morgana ran in. Her father Uther, well in truth Uther was not Morgana’s true father, he’d died long ago when Morgana had been but a snip of a girl and Uther, a close friend had taken her in but for all intents and purposes. Uther himself had a son, Arthur. Igraine, Uther’s wife and Arthur’s mother had perished while giving birth and not long after that Uther had taken in Morgana. This had caused quite a rumpus in society. Some people fluttering over how kind Uther was to welcome her into his home and arms when he already had a young son and was still grieving for his late wife. Others whispered that it was out of guilt for it was rumoured that one of Uther’s investment ventures, which was not so honourable, was the reason her father was dead in the first place. However, no matter what your thoughts of Uther it was undeniable that he held a certain command over people and was incredibly well off. His investments, underhanded or not, gave great return and so his children wanted for nothing.
“You know Charles Worth may be expensive but one can’t deny that he creates some stunning dresses.”
Morgana turned from the glass satisfied with the dress and beckoned Gwen to fetch some accessories. As Gwen placed the bracelet on Morgana’s left wrist, her heart clenched slightly at the diamond ring resting on her ring finger; an ever constant reminder to the world of her engagement. Gwen ducked her head, turning her eyes away from the ring, she moved on, concentrating on the necklace that was yet to grace her mistress’s skin. Just as Gwen was finishing fastening the necklace set with deep blue sapphires and diamonds that matched her dress, earrings and brooch, around Morgana’s throat, a knock came at the door. Morgana turned her head calling out for the intruder to enter. The oak door opened and in burst in the tall figure of Arthur. He was dressed impeccably. His wing tipped shirt was a crisp clear white and his pants a dark jet black contrasting with the white. He wore suspenders that no doubt matched the darkness of his trousers but the silk vest over the top of his shirt, deep blue and rich in colour hid them from view. He also wore a formal tailcoat, a silk puff tie that matched in colour and pattern to his vest. A gold pocket watch, a pair of leather dress gloves and a top hat held in Arthur’s free hand, the one that wasn’t currently holding the door knob, finished off his look. Gwen made the silent observation that he and Morgana matched wonderfully together and the notion made her heart ache a little.
Before Morgana could speak, Arthur had made a bee line towards Gwen, dropping his hat on the side table near the door as he did so and enfolded her in his arms. The enthusiastic embrace shocked Gwen and she found herself blushing as he squeezed her tighter lifting her clear off her feet, so they were now dangling mid air. Though her cheeks where still flushing furiously she soon fond herself hugging him back, her arms resting themselves around his neck and squeezing back lightly. In reality the hug lasted only a few seconds but it seemed to be much longer than that. Gwen was deadly aware that Morgana was present, watching them and that the door was open so anyone passing would see the events. Finally Arthur set her down and drew back to look at her, Gwen met his gaze and from the way his eyes where shinning she almost believed he was about to in lean in and kiss her, something that was most inappropriate, with the company they held, more so than the hugging, though that in itself was not wise.
When Arthur’s hand came up to her face Gwen shifted back slightly, unsure of what it was he was about to do. Arthur smirked a little as if reading her thoughts and brushed his fingers lightly against her skin, making it tingle and melt her heart, before tucking a lose curl behind Gwen’s ear and smiling. Gwen smiled back, getting swept up in the moment until Morgana coughed loudly, shaking Arthur and her from their current thoughts and bringing them back into the room. Gwen’s eyes immediately darted to the floor, her cheeks burning devilishly again as she wrung her hands together nervously. Arthur completely unabashed turned to face Morgana.
“Yes?” he inquired, tone slightly annoyed.
Morgana huffed, eyes narrowing.
“Excuse me, you’re the one who barged in here, just made a big old scene, which by the way is completely inappropriate to be doing in front of others, especially your fiancée, where’s your sense of honour?”
Morgana waved her left hand in front of his face flashing the ring, making Arthur roll his eyes and strain an insipid smile, Morgana replying in kind. Gwen stayed silent, thankful she was not in the lime light right now but also embarrassed at Morgana’s comments and slightly wounded by the reminder of their engagement.
“Fake fiancée” Arthur replied throwing Gwen a smile as if he knew the constant reminder of this arrangement bothered her, her lips curled upwards ever so slightly in response.
“Tell that to those hovering busy bodies we’ll see tonight…” and then retorting back into the voice imitation she had done early Morgana continued.
“O Morgana you’re so lucky, Arthur Pendrgon, he’s so handsome, and wonderful, you must be thrilled that it is you that holds his heart, I’m so jealous, how can you possibly want to wait two years, I’d want to get married the day he proposed, o do tell us the story of his proposal again, please Morgana,” Morgana flapped her hands, clasping them together and fanning herself in a manic squealing fashion. Gwen couldn’t help but be amused, Arthur himself chuckling lightly.
“Honestly I hope you appreciate the things I do and go through for you…you two” she corrected herself as he eyes drifted onto Gwen.
“Excuse me but this was all your idea in the first place, don’t act like this arrangement doesn’t help you more than us Morgana; did you want to marry Mr. Teller?” Arthur said waving his hand, dismissing her comments.
Morgana nodded in agreement, he was right. There was no way she was going to marry that imbecile of a man. The very thought of being his wife sent shivers of dread up and down her spine, She had contemplated running away but then the idea had struck.
Part Two