Two Gwen and Merlin Friendship Fics
If series 3 has taught me one thing, it's that although I continue to run screaming from the mere hint of A/G, I am still very fond of Gwen, particularly when she is with Merlin and they are NOT just discussing Arthur. The Gwen/Merlin detective agency, Gwen teasing Merlin, Merlin comforting Gwen when she's upset, THEY ALL WORK FOR ME and I would like more of that. Anyway, I'm just bringing together a couple of short fics on that theme here, one of which was written ages ago and has been sitting on my hard drive, and the other was written last week (and originally posted in the comments of a flocked entry).
I found myself a new icon too! Just for the occasion (and made by glenien)
Title: Learning to sew
Wordcount: 300
Rating: G
Summary: A tiny missing scene set between 1x01 and 1x02, written for the prompt ‘sewing.’
Arthur was returning from patrol when he saw them, two dark heads bent close together in the pink-gold of the summer evening. They were sitting on the low wall that skirted the kitchen; Merlin had discarded his jacket and neckerchief and his sleeves were pushed back to expose pale arms and scarred elbows, a marked contrast to the neatness of Guinevere beside him. There was a worn bundle of cloth on Merlin’s lap, all frayed edges and faded red, and as Arthur watched, Merlin began a careful line of stitches - pausing on each pass of the needle through the fabric, frowning in concentration as Guinevere smiled her encouragement and gently tugged the cloth straight. It was slow work but Arthur, who had watched Morgana create beautiful patterns from skeins of wool and linen, remained still - his eyes following the hesitant movements of Merlin’s fingers, the slackening and tightening of the thread as the line grew.
Belatedly, he remembered throwing the torn tunic at his manservant that morning, telling him curtly to ‘get it fixed,’ just another challenge, another attempt to prove Merlin was as incompetant as he had complained to his father a week ago. He had expected Merlin to complain, to forget, or, at the very least, to cajole a willing maidservant into doing it for him. But instead he sat on the dusty wall as the shadows lengthened and he sewed - until at last, with a jubilant grin and a flourish, he pulled the thread tight one last time and proclaimed it “Done. To perfection!” Guinevere laughed and inspected his work as Merlin flopped sideways onto the wall, apparently too exhausted to move.
Arthur rolled his eyes, amused despite himself. It seemed Merlin wasn’t completely useless after all.
Perhaps tomorrow, he would try him with some sparring practice.
The End.
Title: Something To Hold On To.
Wordcount: 1,111
Rating: G (some angst)
Summary: A missing scene from The Crystal Cave, because archaeologist_d made the very good point that everyone else has someone to comfort them, except Merlin :( So, because I miss Gwen and Merlin’s friendship a ridiculous amount, I wrote this to make myself feel better. It also has the distinction of being the nearest I’ve ever got to writing something A/G compatible ;)
It was dim in the corridor outside Morgana’s room. Merlin didn’t even know what he was doing there, only that he couldn’t stand to be in Arthur’s chambers any longer, watching Arthur get steadily drunker. His footsteps sounded loud in the silence and he stopped, his eyes fixed on the small sliver of firelight that he could see beneath the closed door. Uther was probably in there, and Gwen - not that he would be welcome anyway, after all that had happened. Merlin crossed to one of the narrow windows and leaned against the stone, staring out over Camelot, only indistinct shapes now, blurred by the rain that had been falling steadily for hours. His eyes hurt and his head ached, it had been too long since he had slept, properly slept, and he could feel the familiar grittiness in his eyes, the exhaustion in his bones, but he knew he would not sleep tonight.
He shifted forward until his forehead was pressed against the cool glass, a sharp contrast to the hot guilt that coiled in his stomach, threatening to break the thin composure he had held onto all day as Gwen cried and Arthur’s sword bit into the listing practice dummy again and again. But it was no good, a gasp escaped him, then a sob, shockingly loud and ugly in the silence. He screwed his eyes shut, pressing his head against the glass until it hurt, feeling wrong and so lonely it was like desperation clawing at him. In that moment he wanted his mother more than anything in the world, someone that cared only for him and could take away the weight he was carrying, if he was only brave enough to tell her of it.
The sound of the door opening behind him made him start violently, his heart thumping wildly as he tried to sink into the shadows, wiping at his face with shaking hands, but it was no good.
“Merlin?”
It was Gwen, Gwen who had hardly left her lady’s side since this had started.
“Gwen,” Merlin said, too brightly. It sounded forced, his voice shredded. “Sorry, I was just- I was walking.”
Gwen was frowning at him, and he could see her eyes were red with crying, even in the dim light. “Merlin... God, you look-“ She came forwards and Merlin tried to turn his head away, because as much as he wanted someone, anyone, when it came to it he couldn’t bear for Gwen to see him like this. “Is it Morgana?” Gwen whispered when she was close enough to touch.
Merlin blinked furiously, taking a few moments to speak and when he did his voice was too tight. “Of course, I just wanted to see- I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
He might have said more, might have talked on so Gwen wouldn’t see that he was falling apart right there in the corridor, but with a small, inarticulate sound Gwen’s arms were suddenly around his neck, warm and soft and smelling of laundry soap and the bitter herbs Gaius burned at Morgana’s bedside. “Shhhh,” she whispered, like Hunith so often had and Merlin half laughed, half sobbed into her shoulder at the comparison.
At the first sign of his tears, Gwen’s arms tightened around him, pulling Merlin down to match her smaller height, but he didn’t care. He wrapped his arms around her and clung on, stifling his sobs as best he could as Gwen said, “It’s okay, it’s okay,” over and over, and “I’m here, Merlin, don’t worry, it’ll be alright.” He realised then that it had been too long since he had talked to Gwen, properly talked to her when it wasn’t about Arthur or saving someone they loved. Holding onto her now, he remembered evenings sat on the castle steps, or talking quietly in his room or the kitchens or the gardens, when he was new to Camelot and Gwen was his best friend. “I miss you,” he mumbled ridiculously, before his mouth could catch up with his brain and remind him that he hasn’t lost her, not really, however it felt sometimes.
“I haven’t gone anywhere,” said Gwen, muffled - her sensible tones making something warm and comforting swell in Merlin’s chest. “And you’ll never lose me, whatever happens.” Whatever, Merlin knew, meant Arthur, meant Morgana and all the changes he could feel coming. “Us servants need to stick together.” Merlin smiled at that, though it felt wobbly.
“And what about when we’re not servants?”
He realised belatedly that he should not have said ‘we’, but if Gwen thought it was strange she didn’t show it. Her arms loosened just enough to rub comfortingly at the flushed skin on the back of his neck. “Then we’ll still be Merlin and Gwen, that won’t ever change.”
Merlin pulled back, just enough to see her face. She looked at him, brow creased in concern, and then moved her hand to wipe the tear tracks from his face. “I’m sorry,” Merlin said, and he meant for everything, though Gwen couldn’t know it.
Gwen smiled, just slightly, and Merlin felt like someone was finally looking at him, finally seeing him for what seemed like the first time in months. Then Gwen’s stomach gurgled, loudly, and the tension abruptly broke. “Hungry?” said Merlin, quirking an eyebrow.
Gwen rolled her eyes, stepping back a little, “I haven’t eaten since breakfast. It’s been... a long day.” For a moment the unspoken subject of Morgana hung between them, and Merlin felt the guilt beginning to creep back, tightening his stomach.
“I should let you go then,” he said awkwardly, and Gwen was frowning at him again, like Merlin had all his feelings writ large upon his face.
“Come on, you’re coming with me. You look as though you could eat as much as me, if not more.”
“No, I can’t, I have to-”
“Nonsense,” said Gwen stoutly, sounding eerily like Morgana in that moment. “You can accompany me to the kitchens, I can’t possibly go there on my own at night.” She gave Merlin a look, as though daring him to contradict her. Merlin narrowed his eyes suspiciously, but after a moment he sighed and offered his arm with an exaggerated bow, because in truth he needed Gwen and her kindness, even if it was only for a few hours.
“Very well, my lady.”
Gwen shook her head at his foolishness and took his arm, but not before she rose quickly on tiptoes, pressing a swift kiss to Merlin’s cheek as she said, low and fierce, “You’ll always have me, Merlin.”
And in that moment, Merlin felt just a little less alone.
The End.
I found myself a new icon too! Just for the occasion (and made by glenien)
Title: Learning to sew
Wordcount: 300
Rating: G
Summary: A tiny missing scene set between 1x01 and 1x02, written for the prompt ‘sewing.’
Arthur was returning from patrol when he saw them, two dark heads bent close together in the pink-gold of the summer evening. They were sitting on the low wall that skirted the kitchen; Merlin had discarded his jacket and neckerchief and his sleeves were pushed back to expose pale arms and scarred elbows, a marked contrast to the neatness of Guinevere beside him. There was a worn bundle of cloth on Merlin’s lap, all frayed edges and faded red, and as Arthur watched, Merlin began a careful line of stitches - pausing on each pass of the needle through the fabric, frowning in concentration as Guinevere smiled her encouragement and gently tugged the cloth straight. It was slow work but Arthur, who had watched Morgana create beautiful patterns from skeins of wool and linen, remained still - his eyes following the hesitant movements of Merlin’s fingers, the slackening and tightening of the thread as the line grew.
Belatedly, he remembered throwing the torn tunic at his manservant that morning, telling him curtly to ‘get it fixed,’ just another challenge, another attempt to prove Merlin was as incompetant as he had complained to his father a week ago. He had expected Merlin to complain, to forget, or, at the very least, to cajole a willing maidservant into doing it for him. But instead he sat on the dusty wall as the shadows lengthened and he sewed - until at last, with a jubilant grin and a flourish, he pulled the thread tight one last time and proclaimed it “Done. To perfection!” Guinevere laughed and inspected his work as Merlin flopped sideways onto the wall, apparently too exhausted to move.
Arthur rolled his eyes, amused despite himself. It seemed Merlin wasn’t completely useless after all.
Perhaps tomorrow, he would try him with some sparring practice.
The End.
Title: Something To Hold On To.
Wordcount: 1,111
Rating: G (some angst)
Summary: A missing scene from The Crystal Cave, because archaeologist_d made the very good point that everyone else has someone to comfort them, except Merlin :( So, because I miss Gwen and Merlin’s friendship a ridiculous amount, I wrote this to make myself feel better. It also has the distinction of being the nearest I’ve ever got to writing something A/G compatible ;)
It was dim in the corridor outside Morgana’s room. Merlin didn’t even know what he was doing there, only that he couldn’t stand to be in Arthur’s chambers any longer, watching Arthur get steadily drunker. His footsteps sounded loud in the silence and he stopped, his eyes fixed on the small sliver of firelight that he could see beneath the closed door. Uther was probably in there, and Gwen - not that he would be welcome anyway, after all that had happened. Merlin crossed to one of the narrow windows and leaned against the stone, staring out over Camelot, only indistinct shapes now, blurred by the rain that had been falling steadily for hours. His eyes hurt and his head ached, it had been too long since he had slept, properly slept, and he could feel the familiar grittiness in his eyes, the exhaustion in his bones, but he knew he would not sleep tonight.
He shifted forward until his forehead was pressed against the cool glass, a sharp contrast to the hot guilt that coiled in his stomach, threatening to break the thin composure he had held onto all day as Gwen cried and Arthur’s sword bit into the listing practice dummy again and again. But it was no good, a gasp escaped him, then a sob, shockingly loud and ugly in the silence. He screwed his eyes shut, pressing his head against the glass until it hurt, feeling wrong and so lonely it was like desperation clawing at him. In that moment he wanted his mother more than anything in the world, someone that cared only for him and could take away the weight he was carrying, if he was only brave enough to tell her of it.
The sound of the door opening behind him made him start violently, his heart thumping wildly as he tried to sink into the shadows, wiping at his face with shaking hands, but it was no good.
“Merlin?”
It was Gwen, Gwen who had hardly left her lady’s side since this had started.
“Gwen,” Merlin said, too brightly. It sounded forced, his voice shredded. “Sorry, I was just- I was walking.”
Gwen was frowning at him, and he could see her eyes were red with crying, even in the dim light. “Merlin... God, you look-“ She came forwards and Merlin tried to turn his head away, because as much as he wanted someone, anyone, when it came to it he couldn’t bear for Gwen to see him like this. “Is it Morgana?” Gwen whispered when she was close enough to touch.
Merlin blinked furiously, taking a few moments to speak and when he did his voice was too tight. “Of course, I just wanted to see- I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
He might have said more, might have talked on so Gwen wouldn’t see that he was falling apart right there in the corridor, but with a small, inarticulate sound Gwen’s arms were suddenly around his neck, warm and soft and smelling of laundry soap and the bitter herbs Gaius burned at Morgana’s bedside. “Shhhh,” she whispered, like Hunith so often had and Merlin half laughed, half sobbed into her shoulder at the comparison.
At the first sign of his tears, Gwen’s arms tightened around him, pulling Merlin down to match her smaller height, but he didn’t care. He wrapped his arms around her and clung on, stifling his sobs as best he could as Gwen said, “It’s okay, it’s okay,” over and over, and “I’m here, Merlin, don’t worry, it’ll be alright.” He realised then that it had been too long since he had talked to Gwen, properly talked to her when it wasn’t about Arthur or saving someone they loved. Holding onto her now, he remembered evenings sat on the castle steps, or talking quietly in his room or the kitchens or the gardens, when he was new to Camelot and Gwen was his best friend. “I miss you,” he mumbled ridiculously, before his mouth could catch up with his brain and remind him that he hasn’t lost her, not really, however it felt sometimes.
“I haven’t gone anywhere,” said Gwen, muffled - her sensible tones making something warm and comforting swell in Merlin’s chest. “And you’ll never lose me, whatever happens.” Whatever, Merlin knew, meant Arthur, meant Morgana and all the changes he could feel coming. “Us servants need to stick together.” Merlin smiled at that, though it felt wobbly.
“And what about when we’re not servants?”
He realised belatedly that he should not have said ‘we’, but if Gwen thought it was strange she didn’t show it. Her arms loosened just enough to rub comfortingly at the flushed skin on the back of his neck. “Then we’ll still be Merlin and Gwen, that won’t ever change.”
Merlin pulled back, just enough to see her face. She looked at him, brow creased in concern, and then moved her hand to wipe the tear tracks from his face. “I’m sorry,” Merlin said, and he meant for everything, though Gwen couldn’t know it.
Gwen smiled, just slightly, and Merlin felt like someone was finally looking at him, finally seeing him for what seemed like the first time in months. Then Gwen’s stomach gurgled, loudly, and the tension abruptly broke. “Hungry?” said Merlin, quirking an eyebrow.
Gwen rolled her eyes, stepping back a little, “I haven’t eaten since breakfast. It’s been... a long day.” For a moment the unspoken subject of Morgana hung between them, and Merlin felt the guilt beginning to creep back, tightening his stomach.
“I should let you go then,” he said awkwardly, and Gwen was frowning at him again, like Merlin had all his feelings writ large upon his face.
“Come on, you’re coming with me. You look as though you could eat as much as me, if not more.”
“No, I can’t, I have to-”
“Nonsense,” said Gwen stoutly, sounding eerily like Morgana in that moment. “You can accompany me to the kitchens, I can’t possibly go there on my own at night.” She gave Merlin a look, as though daring him to contradict her. Merlin narrowed his eyes suspiciously, but after a moment he sighed and offered his arm with an exaggerated bow, because in truth he needed Gwen and her kindness, even if it was only for a few hours.
“Very well, my lady.”
Gwen shook her head at his foolishness and took his arm, but not before she rose quickly on tiptoes, pressing a swift kiss to Merlin’s cheek as she said, low and fierce, “You’ll always have me, Merlin.”
And in that moment, Merlin felt just a little less alone.
The End.