Sleepless
Rating: G
Pairing/s: lighthearted mentions of Morgana/random knight, Arthur/Gwen, Merlin/Gwen, Gwen/Sir Leon, and Arthur/Morgana (S1 setting! Nobody knew yet!)
Character/s: Gwen, Morgana, Merlin
Summary: Gwen wants to help make one of Morgana's sleepless nights fun. Set between the end of 1x04 (The Poisoned Chalice) and the beginning of 1x05 (Lancelot).
Word Count: 2654
Prompts: “Morgana and Gwen have a very girly slumber party” and “Matchmaker!Morgana”
A/N: Hi, there! Long time no see/write! :D I've been rewatching this series for the first time in years with my daughter, who watched with me during its original run when she was small. She's now a very cool young woman, and we're having a LOT of fun rediscovering this show-- and she's been inadvertently prompting me with random comments, lol. I’m more than a little out of practice, but let’s see how this goes!!
~dedicated to Prezza~
Gwen’s heart hurt as she held Morgana, still trembling from her latest nightmare. None of the sleeping draughts Gaius concocted seemed to be making Morgana’s nights any more restful, and Gwen worried about how much more of this her lady could withstand.
“I'm sorry,” Morgana murmured as she drew back. “I shouldn't keep you any longer; you need to go home and get some sleep.” Despite her words, she was still clearly affected, and Gwen appreciated the consideration even though she wouldn't be accepting it.
With a shake of her head, she replied, “No, it's fine.”
“It's not.” Morgana’s words carried a guilty note. “I can't expect you to stay up with me all night after spending most of the day with me, as well.”
Gwen had a flash of inspiration, a way to hopefully distract Morgana from her dream and make her feel better. “Why not? My friend Muirne and I used to do just that when we were girls.”
“You stayed up all night after spending the day together?” The concept was clearly baffling Morgana. On one hand, this seemed to be working as the distraction Gwen wanted it to be. On the other hand, Gwen was made aware not for the first time of how isolated an upbringing Morgana had experienced in this castle full of men. “Why? What did you do?”
“Well, we tried out new hairstyles on each other, and we'd share stories or songs we'd heard from traveling bards. And we'd embroider- either we’d make the same designs on our clothes and handkerchiefs so we’d match, or we’d trade and sew one another’s handkerchiefs.” She laughed quietly, briefly lost in her memories. “Sometimes we'd surprise one another with a lovely design, but other times we had to rip the stitches out before our parents saw.”
Morgana still looked a bit confused, though the cause of her confusion had shifted. “Would your parents have been that upset about poor sewing?”
Realizing what she had begun to admit, Gwen's eyes widened and she felt her face grow a little hot. “Um, no… That wasn't the reason.”
After a beat, comprehension dawned. “Gwen! Are you saying you and your friend embroidered-” Morgana cut off with a glance toward the door, then leaned closer. In a lower tone, she continued, “--inappropriate images?”
If Gwen's face had been hot a moment earlier, she now felt as though it were engulfed in flame. “No, my lady! Nothing like that!”
Morgana moved back. “Oh. What was the problem, then?”
Letting out a small breath to hopefully cool down, Gwen said, “We'd embroider the names of boys we liked alongside little hearts and things like that.”
That made Morgana smile, and Gwen's pleasure at seeing the expression eased her remaining embarrassment. “That's adorable. So, you discussed boys?”
“Of course- it's most of what we talked about while we were doing each other's hair and sewing.”
Morgana’s smile grew as she sat down on the bed. “But where was Tom while all this was going on? I can't imagine he enjoyed listening to that.”
“We were usually at Muirne’s house, since her parents watched me when my father was working late,” Gwen explained. “Her bed was in a loft over the front of the house, which gave us a little privacy. And, it gave her parents a break from our whispering and giggling- I’m half convinced that’s why they had the loft built, in the first place.”
Her smile becoming wistful, Morgana said, “You’re fortunate to have had friends like that. When Uther was away, I was watched by my nurse and the castle guards; and it wasn’t much different before I came to Camelot, when my father was out fighting.”
It was as Gwen had suspected, and Morgana’s statement led right into what she had in mind. “You have me now, my lady.”
“I am grateful for that.” Morgana stood again. “And I wouldn’t be showing my gratitude if I made you stay here and entertain me any longer.”
Gwen tilted her head, a hint of mischief dancing across her features. “What if I stay and we entertain each other?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you have those new hair ornaments we haven't used yet, and I heard a wonderful ballad in the lower town I could share. And didn’t Lady Eadrica give you those little paint pots meant to decorate your nails?” Gwen hesitated. Was she overstepping? She only meant to help, but while Morgana clearly thought of her fondly, they were only mistress and servant. “If you want, that is. We don’t have to, if you’d rather not…”
Morgana let out a small laugh, waving aside Gwen's concern. “Are you also suggesting we stay up all night and talk about boys?”
“There is a fresh batch of handkerchiefs that needs to be embroidered,” Gwen said thoughtfully, relieved that her suggestion was being well received, as well as excited at the prospect of just doing something fun.
Three hours later, both women were seated on Morgana’s bed in their nightdresses, sporting elaborate (and elaborately ridiculous) hairstyles, their stomachs and cheeks sore from laughter. They weren't laughing as much at the moment, however, although they were still amused.
Morgana suddenly exclaimed in dismay and set down the handkerchief whose stitches she’d been in the middle of removing. “The paint chipped off of my nail! And the flower you’d painted was so pretty, too.”
“I can fix it,” Gwen promised. With a grin, she said, “I guess you’ll just have to leave that handkerchief as it is, to protect your nails.”
“No!” Morgana’s shriek was playful, but she still grabbed the fabric back up. “If anyone ever saw this, I could never show my face at court again.” She frantically pulled at the deep green thread Gwen had used to declare, “Morgana💚Sir Bedevere”.
“Why? I thought you said Sir Bedevere has ‘a manly air,’” Gwen giggled.
“I mean… he does,” Morgana admitted. “But he doesn't need to know that! He'd probably become completely insufferable if he overheard me.”
“At least you would only be embarrassed if anyone found out,” Gwen said. “Can you imagine what would happen if this was ever discovered?!” As she unraveled Morgana’s flowery, “🌹🌹Arthur❤️❤️❤️Gwen🌹🌹” she continued, “Arthur would be annoyed, and Uther would have me thrown in the stocks, at best. When did you learn to make such tight stitches??” The first “r” in “Arthur” was refusing to budge against her needle.
“I’ve been practicing. What else do I have to do lately?” Morgana said, though she was more focused on finishing out the last “e” in “Bedevere”. “Finally!” She triumphantly flung her handkerchief aside. “And what, you mean you wouldn’t want to be in the heart of the future king of Camelot?” Morgana’s eyes sparkled as she teased her friend.
“I can’t think of a more unlikely scenario, can you?” Gwen rolled her eyes. “On the other hand, this is much more likely.” She tossed another handkerchief at Morgana.
Morgana snorted as she glanced at the script. “In his dreams.” Picking up a scrap of fabric she’d laid aside earlier, she presented it to Gwen. “Here’s your next one.”
“I’m not done destroying your first creation yet,” Gwen protested, her nose wrinkling as she continued her battle with the stubborn “r”.
“You should be mounting and framing that, not destroying it. I’ll have you know I put a lot of effort into those roses.”
“And none whatsoever into the names.”
As Gwen hadn’t taken the second handkerchief yet, Morgana laid it in front of her. “Consider this a peace offering. You might actually want to give this one some thought,” she added with a wink.
Gwen glanced at it briefly, then back again, with a fond smile. “We definitely need to make sure that never sees the light of day. He’d be the one to die of embarrassment, not me.” She set “🌼Gwen💙Merlin🌼” on her lap to be dealt with as soon as she emerged the victor in her current skirmish.
Morgana had decided to start removing the second name on her handkerchief first, and was taking maybe a bit too much pleasure in stripping the “h” from “Arthur” in “Morgana❤️Arthur” if the holes left in the fabric were any indication. “Honestly, Gwen, I’m not entirely joking. What about Merlin? He’s kind and loyal, and easy on the eyes. And he somehow manages to put up with Arthur all day, so he’s clearly got the patience of a saint.”
“Merlin is a lovely person and I enjoy his company.” Gwen felt herself blush slightly. He'd been very gracious about not bringing up how she’d kissed him a few weeks earlier, when he'd revived from the poison. She was still fairly surprised at herself for having done that, and she did hope that he hadn’t read anything into it which she hadn’t meant. Surely, he didn’t. If he had, he would’ve said something by now… right? Realizing that Morgana was watching her, Gwen stammered, “I just- I'm not sure…”
“He's younger than you,” Morgana allowed, then raised a mischievous eyebrow as she added, “but that's not always a bad thing.”
Gwen saw an opening to turn the tide of the conversation. “You should know, being that you're a couple of years older than Arthur…”
“Sometimes it is a bad thing,” Morgana grumbled at that, not even trying to be careful in removing the heart that had preceded Arthur's name. “Nobody will notice if I burn one of these, right?”
“I think we might have to burn both of them,” Gwen admitted. “I should've mentioned that the key to this game is making sure you can remove the names without ruining the handkerchiefs.”
“Too late now.” Morgana wadded up the fabric she'd been holding, then grabbed the linen out of Gwen's hand as she climbed off the bed. Once she'd thrown them both in the fire and was satisfied that they'd burned beyond salvaging (or deciphering), she nodded. “There, now we're both safe. No need to be concerned that anyone will think either of us wants to be the future queen of Camelot. Perish the thought.”
“You'd be a wonderful queen,” Gwen protested. “You have a strong sense of justice and compassion, and you stand up for what you believe in.”
“But it would mean being married to Arthur. That would be like marrying my brother.” Morgana pretended to shudder.
“He's a good man, though,” Gwen said. “He'll be a great king when the time comes, and I expect he'd be a good husband.”
Morgana’s chin went up stubbornly. “Not to me.”
Making eye contact, they both started laughing. “Very well,” Gwen conceded.
“You know who surely will make a good husband?” Morgana climbed back onto the bed and looked at Gwen with a twinkle in her eyes. “Merlin.”
Gwen's face instantly flamed again. “I’m really not looking for a husband, my lady.”
“If not a husband, then what about…” Morgana paused, giving thought to the phrasing of her question before settling on, “a special friend?”
“I’m happy with just a good, but normal, friend,” Gwen insisted. Even as she said it, she was considering the handkerchief she was currently de-stitching. She'd removed her own name and the heart already, but Morgana had done such a lovely job on Merlin's name and the flower beside it, it would be a pity to completely erase that work.
Morgana had to nod at that. “You won't find someone much more normal than Merlin.”
“Sweet, but normal,” Gwen agreed.
“So, you like the tough, muscley types instead?” teased Morgana, already planning which flowers she was going to use to adorn, “Gwen💛Sir Leon”.
“No! I don’t have a type,” Gwen protested, though she was laughing again. As Morgana picked up the sewing basket and started sorting through the thread, Gwen desperately said, “Why don't I fix your nail?” Between the time it would take to add the paint and then let it dry, maybe she could prevent further kerchief catastrophes by coming up with alternate entertainment.
The ruse worked. Morgana glanced down at the ruined paint again and said, “Oh, of course- thank you.”
Late the next morning, Merlin knocked on Lady Morgana’s door, Gaius’s latest sleeping draught in hand. When there was no response, he cautiously opened the door and stepped inside.
As he did, Gwen suddenly materialized in front of him. “Merlin!” she exclaimed, then covered her mouth at the sound and quickly held a finger to her lips, indicating Morgana sleeping soundly nearby.
If she’d been surprised to see him, that was nothing compared to how Gwen’s appearance caught Merlin off guard. She’d clearly just woken up at his knock and was clutching a blanket around herself over a nightdress. Her hair was mostly what drew his attention, however; it was an insane array of braids and curls which had been arranged around a complicated gold wire decoration, standing at least six inches high on her head. Small silk rosettes and hairpins with various dangly beads stuck out from several points in the creation. Perhaps it had been neater at some point, but it seemed that Gwen had slept in the hairstyle, and it was now impossible to determine exactly how much of its appearance was due to that and how much was by original design.
“Um…” Quietly, he asked her hair, “Is everything okay?” His face made it clear he doubted that was the case.
“Completely fine.” Gwen nodded to emphasize how fine everything was, which only served to make a few of the rosettes and hairpins come loose. She winced when the latter hit the floor.
Merlin glanced over at Morgana again, realizing that her hair was apparently in a similar state to Gwen’s. “As long as you’re sure…” he replied, finally able to meet her eyes.
“I’m positive,” she assured him. “Did you need something?”
It took him a beat to recall why he was here in the first place. “Right.” Holding out the vial, he said, “Gaius sent a new sleeping draught for Morgana, for tonight. But maybe she won’t need it.” He indicated where the lady was soundly slumbering.
Knowing full well that Morgana was worn out from staying up all night laughing, Gwen merely accepted the bottle. “Hopefully not.”
As Merlin turned to go, something caught his eye: his name, on a piece of fabric that seemed to have fallen on the floor when Gwen ran over.
“What's that?” he asked curiously.
Gwen turned to see what he was talking about, and turned a little pink. “Oh!” She picked it up and held it out. “Here, it's a handkerchief. It's for you. Morgana and I made it.”
Surprised, he accepted it. “It's lovely, thank you.” He ran his thumb over the embroidered stitches: 🌼🌻🌼Merlin🌼🌻🌼 “Um, please don't think I don't appreciate this, because I truly do; but… why?”
Gwen glanced back to the fabric Merlin now held, pursing her lips and tilting her head in consideration, which caused more small decorations to cascade to the floor. After a moment, she gave him a bewildered grin and finally replied, “You know, just to be nice.”
Before he could say anything else, Gwen was guiding him back out to the corridor. “Thank you again for the sleeping draught, but we need to be careful not to wake Morgana. And you wouldn't want to be late for Arthur!” With that, she gave him a small shove and the door closed quietly but firmly behind him.
Something weird had obviously happened here last night. Merlin paused to see if he could sense anything, but didn't get the feeling of anything dangerous or even a hint of sorcery, so decided it was probably safe. Still weird, but safe.
As he made his way toward Arthur’s chambers, Merlin decided that women were a greater mystery than any question posed by magic…
*
Pairing/s: lighthearted mentions of Morgana/random knight, Arthur/Gwen, Merlin/Gwen, Gwen/Sir Leon, and Arthur/Morgana (S1 setting! Nobody knew yet!)
Character/s: Gwen, Morgana, Merlin
Summary: Gwen wants to help make one of Morgana's sleepless nights fun. Set between the end of 1x04 (The Poisoned Chalice) and the beginning of 1x05 (Lancelot).
Word Count: 2654
Prompts: “Morgana and Gwen have a very girly slumber party” and “Matchmaker!Morgana”
A/N: Hi, there! Long time no see/write! :D I've been rewatching this series for the first time in years with my daughter, who watched with me during its original run when she was small. She's now a very cool young woman, and we're having a LOT of fun rediscovering this show-- and she's been inadvertently prompting me with random comments, lol. I’m more than a little out of practice, but let’s see how this goes!!
~dedicated to Prezza~
Gwen’s heart hurt as she held Morgana, still trembling from her latest nightmare. None of the sleeping draughts Gaius concocted seemed to be making Morgana’s nights any more restful, and Gwen worried about how much more of this her lady could withstand.
“I'm sorry,” Morgana murmured as she drew back. “I shouldn't keep you any longer; you need to go home and get some sleep.” Despite her words, she was still clearly affected, and Gwen appreciated the consideration even though she wouldn't be accepting it.
With a shake of her head, she replied, “No, it's fine.”
“It's not.” Morgana’s words carried a guilty note. “I can't expect you to stay up with me all night after spending most of the day with me, as well.”
Gwen had a flash of inspiration, a way to hopefully distract Morgana from her dream and make her feel better. “Why not? My friend Muirne and I used to do just that when we were girls.”
“You stayed up all night after spending the day together?” The concept was clearly baffling Morgana. On one hand, this seemed to be working as the distraction Gwen wanted it to be. On the other hand, Gwen was made aware not for the first time of how isolated an upbringing Morgana had experienced in this castle full of men. “Why? What did you do?”
“Well, we tried out new hairstyles on each other, and we'd share stories or songs we'd heard from traveling bards. And we'd embroider- either we’d make the same designs on our clothes and handkerchiefs so we’d match, or we’d trade and sew one another’s handkerchiefs.” She laughed quietly, briefly lost in her memories. “Sometimes we'd surprise one another with a lovely design, but other times we had to rip the stitches out before our parents saw.”
Morgana still looked a bit confused, though the cause of her confusion had shifted. “Would your parents have been that upset about poor sewing?”
Realizing what she had begun to admit, Gwen's eyes widened and she felt her face grow a little hot. “Um, no… That wasn't the reason.”
After a beat, comprehension dawned. “Gwen! Are you saying you and your friend embroidered-” Morgana cut off with a glance toward the door, then leaned closer. In a lower tone, she continued, “--inappropriate images?”
If Gwen's face had been hot a moment earlier, she now felt as though it were engulfed in flame. “No, my lady! Nothing like that!”
Morgana moved back. “Oh. What was the problem, then?”
Letting out a small breath to hopefully cool down, Gwen said, “We'd embroider the names of boys we liked alongside little hearts and things like that.”
That made Morgana smile, and Gwen's pleasure at seeing the expression eased her remaining embarrassment. “That's adorable. So, you discussed boys?”
“Of course- it's most of what we talked about while we were doing each other's hair and sewing.”
Morgana’s smile grew as she sat down on the bed. “But where was Tom while all this was going on? I can't imagine he enjoyed listening to that.”
“We were usually at Muirne’s house, since her parents watched me when my father was working late,” Gwen explained. “Her bed was in a loft over the front of the house, which gave us a little privacy. And, it gave her parents a break from our whispering and giggling- I’m half convinced that’s why they had the loft built, in the first place.”
Her smile becoming wistful, Morgana said, “You’re fortunate to have had friends like that. When Uther was away, I was watched by my nurse and the castle guards; and it wasn’t much different before I came to Camelot, when my father was out fighting.”
It was as Gwen had suspected, and Morgana’s statement led right into what she had in mind. “You have me now, my lady.”
“I am grateful for that.” Morgana stood again. “And I wouldn’t be showing my gratitude if I made you stay here and entertain me any longer.”
Gwen tilted her head, a hint of mischief dancing across her features. “What if I stay and we entertain each other?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you have those new hair ornaments we haven't used yet, and I heard a wonderful ballad in the lower town I could share. And didn’t Lady Eadrica give you those little paint pots meant to decorate your nails?” Gwen hesitated. Was she overstepping? She only meant to help, but while Morgana clearly thought of her fondly, they were only mistress and servant. “If you want, that is. We don’t have to, if you’d rather not…”
Morgana let out a small laugh, waving aside Gwen's concern. “Are you also suggesting we stay up all night and talk about boys?”
“There is a fresh batch of handkerchiefs that needs to be embroidered,” Gwen said thoughtfully, relieved that her suggestion was being well received, as well as excited at the prospect of just doing something fun.
Three hours later, both women were seated on Morgana’s bed in their nightdresses, sporting elaborate (and elaborately ridiculous) hairstyles, their stomachs and cheeks sore from laughter. They weren't laughing as much at the moment, however, although they were still amused.
Morgana suddenly exclaimed in dismay and set down the handkerchief whose stitches she’d been in the middle of removing. “The paint chipped off of my nail! And the flower you’d painted was so pretty, too.”
“I can fix it,” Gwen promised. With a grin, she said, “I guess you’ll just have to leave that handkerchief as it is, to protect your nails.”
“No!” Morgana’s shriek was playful, but she still grabbed the fabric back up. “If anyone ever saw this, I could never show my face at court again.” She frantically pulled at the deep green thread Gwen had used to declare, “Morgana💚Sir Bedevere”.
“Why? I thought you said Sir Bedevere has ‘a manly air,’” Gwen giggled.
“I mean… he does,” Morgana admitted. “But he doesn't need to know that! He'd probably become completely insufferable if he overheard me.”
“At least you would only be embarrassed if anyone found out,” Gwen said. “Can you imagine what would happen if this was ever discovered?!” As she unraveled Morgana’s flowery, “🌹🌹Arthur❤️❤️❤️Gwen🌹🌹” she continued, “Arthur would be annoyed, and Uther would have me thrown in the stocks, at best. When did you learn to make such tight stitches??” The first “r” in “Arthur” was refusing to budge against her needle.
“I’ve been practicing. What else do I have to do lately?” Morgana said, though she was more focused on finishing out the last “e” in “Bedevere”. “Finally!” She triumphantly flung her handkerchief aside. “And what, you mean you wouldn’t want to be in the heart of the future king of Camelot?” Morgana’s eyes sparkled as she teased her friend.
“I can’t think of a more unlikely scenario, can you?” Gwen rolled her eyes. “On the other hand, this is much more likely.” She tossed another handkerchief at Morgana.
Morgana snorted as she glanced at the script. “In his dreams.” Picking up a scrap of fabric she’d laid aside earlier, she presented it to Gwen. “Here’s your next one.”
“I’m not done destroying your first creation yet,” Gwen protested, her nose wrinkling as she continued her battle with the stubborn “r”.
“You should be mounting and framing that, not destroying it. I’ll have you know I put a lot of effort into those roses.”
“And none whatsoever into the names.”
As Gwen hadn’t taken the second handkerchief yet, Morgana laid it in front of her. “Consider this a peace offering. You might actually want to give this one some thought,” she added with a wink.
Gwen glanced at it briefly, then back again, with a fond smile. “We definitely need to make sure that never sees the light of day. He’d be the one to die of embarrassment, not me.” She set “🌼Gwen💙Merlin🌼” on her lap to be dealt with as soon as she emerged the victor in her current skirmish.
Morgana had decided to start removing the second name on her handkerchief first, and was taking maybe a bit too much pleasure in stripping the “h” from “Arthur” in “Morgana❤️Arthur” if the holes left in the fabric were any indication. “Honestly, Gwen, I’m not entirely joking. What about Merlin? He’s kind and loyal, and easy on the eyes. And he somehow manages to put up with Arthur all day, so he’s clearly got the patience of a saint.”
“Merlin is a lovely person and I enjoy his company.” Gwen felt herself blush slightly. He'd been very gracious about not bringing up how she’d kissed him a few weeks earlier, when he'd revived from the poison. She was still fairly surprised at herself for having done that, and she did hope that he hadn’t read anything into it which she hadn’t meant. Surely, he didn’t. If he had, he would’ve said something by now… right? Realizing that Morgana was watching her, Gwen stammered, “I just- I'm not sure…”
“He's younger than you,” Morgana allowed, then raised a mischievous eyebrow as she added, “but that's not always a bad thing.”
Gwen saw an opening to turn the tide of the conversation. “You should know, being that you're a couple of years older than Arthur…”
“Sometimes it is a bad thing,” Morgana grumbled at that, not even trying to be careful in removing the heart that had preceded Arthur's name. “Nobody will notice if I burn one of these, right?”
“I think we might have to burn both of them,” Gwen admitted. “I should've mentioned that the key to this game is making sure you can remove the names without ruining the handkerchiefs.”
“Too late now.” Morgana wadded up the fabric she'd been holding, then grabbed the linen out of Gwen's hand as she climbed off the bed. Once she'd thrown them both in the fire and was satisfied that they'd burned beyond salvaging (or deciphering), she nodded. “There, now we're both safe. No need to be concerned that anyone will think either of us wants to be the future queen of Camelot. Perish the thought.”
“You'd be a wonderful queen,” Gwen protested. “You have a strong sense of justice and compassion, and you stand up for what you believe in.”
“But it would mean being married to Arthur. That would be like marrying my brother.” Morgana pretended to shudder.
“He's a good man, though,” Gwen said. “He'll be a great king when the time comes, and I expect he'd be a good husband.”
Morgana’s chin went up stubbornly. “Not to me.”
Making eye contact, they both started laughing. “Very well,” Gwen conceded.
“You know who surely will make a good husband?” Morgana climbed back onto the bed and looked at Gwen with a twinkle in her eyes. “Merlin.”
Gwen's face instantly flamed again. “I’m really not looking for a husband, my lady.”
“If not a husband, then what about…” Morgana paused, giving thought to the phrasing of her question before settling on, “a special friend?”
“I’m happy with just a good, but normal, friend,” Gwen insisted. Even as she said it, she was considering the handkerchief she was currently de-stitching. She'd removed her own name and the heart already, but Morgana had done such a lovely job on Merlin's name and the flower beside it, it would be a pity to completely erase that work.
Morgana had to nod at that. “You won't find someone much more normal than Merlin.”
“Sweet, but normal,” Gwen agreed.
“So, you like the tough, muscley types instead?” teased Morgana, already planning which flowers she was going to use to adorn, “Gwen💛Sir Leon”.
“No! I don’t have a type,” Gwen protested, though she was laughing again. As Morgana picked up the sewing basket and started sorting through the thread, Gwen desperately said, “Why don't I fix your nail?” Between the time it would take to add the paint and then let it dry, maybe she could prevent further kerchief catastrophes by coming up with alternate entertainment.
The ruse worked. Morgana glanced down at the ruined paint again and said, “Oh, of course- thank you.”
Late the next morning, Merlin knocked on Lady Morgana’s door, Gaius’s latest sleeping draught in hand. When there was no response, he cautiously opened the door and stepped inside.
As he did, Gwen suddenly materialized in front of him. “Merlin!” she exclaimed, then covered her mouth at the sound and quickly held a finger to her lips, indicating Morgana sleeping soundly nearby.
If she’d been surprised to see him, that was nothing compared to how Gwen’s appearance caught Merlin off guard. She’d clearly just woken up at his knock and was clutching a blanket around herself over a nightdress. Her hair was mostly what drew his attention, however; it was an insane array of braids and curls which had been arranged around a complicated gold wire decoration, standing at least six inches high on her head. Small silk rosettes and hairpins with various dangly beads stuck out from several points in the creation. Perhaps it had been neater at some point, but it seemed that Gwen had slept in the hairstyle, and it was now impossible to determine exactly how much of its appearance was due to that and how much was by original design.
“Um…” Quietly, he asked her hair, “Is everything okay?” His face made it clear he doubted that was the case.
“Completely fine.” Gwen nodded to emphasize how fine everything was, which only served to make a few of the rosettes and hairpins come loose. She winced when the latter hit the floor.
Merlin glanced over at Morgana again, realizing that her hair was apparently in a similar state to Gwen’s. “As long as you’re sure…” he replied, finally able to meet her eyes.
“I’m positive,” she assured him. “Did you need something?”
It took him a beat to recall why he was here in the first place. “Right.” Holding out the vial, he said, “Gaius sent a new sleeping draught for Morgana, for tonight. But maybe she won’t need it.” He indicated where the lady was soundly slumbering.
Knowing full well that Morgana was worn out from staying up all night laughing, Gwen merely accepted the bottle. “Hopefully not.”
As Merlin turned to go, something caught his eye: his name, on a piece of fabric that seemed to have fallen on the floor when Gwen ran over.
“What's that?” he asked curiously.
Gwen turned to see what he was talking about, and turned a little pink. “Oh!” She picked it up and held it out. “Here, it's a handkerchief. It's for you. Morgana and I made it.”
Surprised, he accepted it. “It's lovely, thank you.” He ran his thumb over the embroidered stitches: 🌼🌻🌼Merlin🌼🌻🌼 “Um, please don't think I don't appreciate this, because I truly do; but… why?”
Gwen glanced back to the fabric Merlin now held, pursing her lips and tilting her head in consideration, which caused more small decorations to cascade to the floor. After a moment, she gave him a bewildered grin and finally replied, “You know, just to be nice.”
Before he could say anything else, Gwen was guiding him back out to the corridor. “Thank you again for the sleeping draught, but we need to be careful not to wake Morgana. And you wouldn't want to be late for Arthur!” With that, she gave him a small shove and the door closed quietly but firmly behind him.
Something weird had obviously happened here last night. Merlin paused to see if he could sense anything, but didn't get the feeling of anything dangerous or even a hint of sorcery, so decided it was probably safe. Still weird, but safe.
As he made his way toward Arthur’s chambers, Merlin decided that women were a greater mystery than any question posed by magic…
*