Anything by favorite_song
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Written for the Gwen Battle Winter 2009 at thefuturequeen on livejournal. Prompt: I would do anything for you.
“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Morgana says, pulling her hair over her shoulder as Gwen straightens the collar of her dress, “Merlin and Arthur.”

“My lady?” Gwen asks, smoothing the fabric of the dress flat against Morgana’s skin. Morgana has beautiful skin; smooth, pale, and perfect, soft to the touch. She runs one finger over the base of Morgana’s neck, just outside of her dress, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind.

“They’d do anything for each other, wouldn’t they?” Morgana says, dropping her hair again. It falls on Gwen’s hand, heavy and soft. “Merlin knew the cup was poisoned and he drank it anyway. For Arthur.”

“He’s very devoted,” Gwen affirms, carefully arranging Morgana’s hair down her back.

“Indeed.” Morgana pauses, turning a little to glance back at Gwen. “I know how you feel about him, Gwen.”

“I don’t!” Gwen exclaims, fingers tightening in Morgana’s hair. “I mean, I do like him, but it’s not what you think.

“I’ve seen the way you look at him.”

“He’s a good man,” Gwen replies

“And Arthur. . .” Morgana begins, her voice heavy on Arthur’s name.

“Yes, my lady?”

“He knew the risks.; he knew he might die. He wasn’t going to go. But . . . he couldn’t let Merlin die.” Morgana’s gone back to their original topic and Gwen lets Morgana’s hair fall, taking a step back to survey it.

“He’ll be a great king someday,” Gwen mutters, “and—“

“And?”

“You’ll be a great queen.” Gwen reaches out to scmooth down a strand of Morgana’s hair.

“I won’t,” Morgana states, quiet but firm.

“My lady, you’re already—“

“I mean, I won’t be queen. Arthur won’t marry me.”

“What?” Gwen sounds kind of shocked, or maybe she’s just pretending, but Morgana laughs a little.

“He doesn’t love me…I mean, he loves me as a sister, but not as a wife. We would drive each other mad.” It’s true; they both know it.

“Perhaps,” Gwen acquiesces.

“He needs someone like Merlin . . . someone who’s devoted to him. We don’t love each other enough.” Morgana reaches out to mooth a wrinkle out of her sleeve.

Gwen nods a little, watching Morgana’s profile. “Are you all right, my lady?” she asks; Morgana’s face has gone dark, closed off like after a nightmare.

Morgana sighs, turning in her chair to face her maid. “Yes, Gwen, just . . .”

“Yes?” Gwen urges.

“There are times when I wish there was someone who would risk their life for me.” It’s hard for Morgana to admit that, even to Gwen, who she trusts completely. It’s just . . . she’s been on her own for so long, she doesn’t want to want anything.

“My lady, Arthur—“ Gwen begins, trying to reassure her.

“Arthur would, I suppose, out of a sense of duty.”

“He loves you.” Gwen sounds so assured.

“But not in that way. He knows he should protect me so he will.”

“The king—“

“Uther would protect me, but he would not die for me. His duty to his people is too great.” Morgana will never admit it but she wishes Uther loved her more than Camelot; she accepted that doesn’t a long time ago.

“He loves you.”

“He loved my father.” Morgana didn’t mean to sound so harsh. It shocks Gwen in to silence for a moment.

“I would,” she says suddenly, passionately.

“What?”Morgana feels like her blood is on fire.

“I would die for you. I would do anything for you.” Gwen sounds shy now, quiet like she does sometimes, and she’s staring at the floor, hair falling into her face to hide her blush.

“Gwen,” Morgana breathes, standing up, “Gwen. Guinevere, really?” She reaches over to brush Gwen’s hair out of her face

“Of course,” Gwen says and she sounds resolved. She sounds like it should be obvious.

“But . . .” Morgana’s hand is still against Gwen’s face, her palm soft against Gwen’s cheek.

“My lady,” Gwen begins and then stops. “My lady, I—“

“Anything, Gwen?” Morgana asks, her voice soft and sweet.

Gwen looks up at her, meets her eyes. “Anything.”

Morgana has to lean down a little to kiss her, but she does, pressing their lips together, rubbing her thumb over Gwen’s cheek. Gwen makes a little gasping noise before kissing back and sliding her hand around Morgana’s waist, across the smooth fabric of her dress. Morgana’s hair fallsl around them and it smells sweet and soft.

Gwen has to break the kiss to breathe and as she does, Morgana mutters against her skin “I would, too.”

“What?” Gwen breathes, turning to kiss her again.

“I would die for you. I would do anything for you.”
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