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The tornado engulfs the bandits, while leaving Morgana's childhood home in tact. Gwen stands in horror and awe: a bizarre mix of emotions. No one else is in sight, most likely busy with bandits on the other side of the village. Gwen turns to Morgana, whose eyes are bright gold.
“Morgana?” she asks. Morgana’s eyes widen, almost comically, and the twister stops. Gwen doesn’t know what she feels. Rage flares, but also disappointment.
She doesn’t trust me. She thinks that I’m that stupid.
“Gwen- I-“ She says.
“Morgana,” Gwen says, more harshly than Morgana has ever heard her speak, “Stop.”
But then, a more rational, compassionate part of her mind takes charge: would you have told her, if your positions were reversed? The reality of her answer hits her like a truck: no.
“Gwen,” she says, “I promise, I never meant to hurt anyone.”
“I believe you,” Gwen finds herself saying.
“Wait,” Morgana asks, “what?”
“I believe you,” Gwen repeats. Merlin rounds the corner.
“They’re gone,” he says, “The rest of the bandits have fled.” Arthur follows him and wraps his arm around Merlin in a companionable gesture.
“No thanks to Merlin, here,” he says. Merlin brushes Arthur’s arm off him.
“I strategized,” he asserts, trying to hold a glare. Arthur just sends him a look, and Merlin breaks into a laugh. Morgana sends Gwen a look, and then Gwen smiles at her. Everything seems to have resorted to the status quo.
“We need to talk,” Gwen murmurs, trying to keep her voice low enough that the boys don't hear them. Morgana nods.
They gather their things and prepare to leave, and Morgana goes to say goodbye to her mother.
“They’re good people, your friends,” her mother says, smiling at her daughter.
“She knows,” Morgana says, and Hunith’s face falls, “I don’t know what I should do.”
“What did she say?” her mother asks cautiously.
“I told her that I never meant to hurt anyone,” Morgana says, “And then she said that she believed me. I’m afraid of going back.”
“Do you trust her?” Hunith asks.
The question catches her off guard. Does she trust Gwen? In some ways, the answer is obvious. Gwen has saved her life many times already, defied her father for her already. But is she willing to do it for her again? Is she willing to undermine her father’s entire reign for her? His chief law? Does Morgana trust her with this? The answer is surprisingly easy to come to.
“Yes,” she says earnestly. Hunith engulfs her in a hug.
“Then you must return,” she says, and she kisses her daughter’s cheek, no longer tall enough to give her the forehead kisses of her youth.
“I’ll return,” she promises, breaking the hug, “I will see you again.”
Her mother’s smile is sad, “I hope so, my daughter, I truly hope so.”
They arrive in Camelot as the sun set against the mountains. Merlin and Arthur bickered, bantered, and flirted the entire way home. Gwen made the occasional comment, much like normal, but Morgana was strangely silent. She does not yet know where she stood. Gwen will have to fix that.
Merlin and Arthur both set off in the direction of Merlin’s chambers, which wasn’t a surprise. Morgana started to make her way towards her and Gaius’, but Gwen grabbed her wrist.
“We need to talk,” she said softly, “somewhere private.” They walk through the darkened hallways in silence. Gwen opened her door, and Morgana followed her in.
She sat down at the edge of her bed and patted the spot beside her. Morgana sat cautiously.
“Tell me everything,” Gwen says, taking Morgana's hand and looking into her eyes. Morgana does. She weaves a tale of a little girl with extraordinary powers, of a young woman leaving her home for Camelot. She speaks of dragons and prophecies, of assassination attempts and magic, and the king's daughter nods along with every word.
"I understand why you didn't tell me," Gwen says. Morgana nods nervously. Gwen seems to catch on to this.
"I'm not going to tell my father, Morgana," she says, as if the idea sounds ridiculous. Morgana breaths a sigh of relief. She hadn't really believed that Gwen would turn her in, but even the possibility was terrifying. She would have burned for this, and then Gwen's future would have burned along with her. Gwen seems to sense the tension, and tries to smooth it over with a joke.
Gwen's eyes twinkle as she says, "If you were executed, who would mend my dresses?"
Morgana grins, and says, "I'm sure that you could teach Arthur to if you really wanted."
Gwen grimaces at that, "could you imagine Arthur with a needle and thread?" Morgana laughs as the image of Arthur stabbing a piece of cloth and willing it to sew itself comes to mind.
"No," Morgana says between laughs, "I can't."
"See," Gwen says with a little grin, "I suppose I'll have to keep you around then."
"I suppose you will," Morgana agrees.