Archive of Our Own

Gwen was barely learning to walk when the first of Camelot's pyres were lit. Too young to remember the pervasive stench of charred meat or the clouds of ash that blotted out the sky. She couldn't know about the way her father held her close in his arms, or about the look of fear in Elyan's eyes as he peered out the window of their cottage. By the time she was grown, all she knew was that she wouldn't have even survived until that day without the gift of magic.

It was years later that her father confided, in hushed tones, that she had been a sickly infant who was only dragged back from the grave by the kindness of a healer woman. As a child, Gwen imagined her mysterious savior sneaking out of Camelot long before Uther's men came to claim her. As an adult, Gwen hoped that her death had at least been quick.

Maybe those memories were why, despite growing up surrounded by the king's constant tirades about the wickedness of sorcery, Gwen had always felt a certain softness towards magic users. She wasn't well-versed in the details of their arts, but she couldn't help but be grateful towards anything that could save a life with the wave of a hand. And maybe that was why, when she first caught the gleam of gold in her friend Merlin's eye, she bit her tongue and bided her time.

Merlin was unlike anyone Gwen had ever met. He was as witty as a politician, but quick to laugh and quicker to defend anyone weaker than himself. He found ways to make her smile when things seemed to be hopeless, and at times he even managed to make the arrogant Prince Arthur cower. If there was one person in all of Camelot who Gwen trusted to be truly good, it was Merlin. She even fancied herself to be a little in love with him, which was why she had her eyes glued to his place on the sidelines when Arthur dueled Sir Valiant.

It was impossible to live in Camelot without getting bored of watching the crown prince defeat foreign knights on the tournament field, but it was all new to Merlin and he reacted to each strike with the same vivacity he brought to the rest of his existence. Watching him gasp and squirm as though he was part of the fight, Gwen couldn't help but feel her heart race in sympathy. She wished that she could see the competition through his eyes, right until she saw those eyes glow with unnatural light as he threw out a hand and caused snakes to erupt from Valiant's shield.

After that, Gwen was left to make a train of conclusions starting from one simple fact. Merlin could not be evil. She would have refused to believe it on principle, but the knowledge that he was performing magic to save the life of a prince who treated him like dirt only reinforced her resolve. If Merlin was not evil, then he must merely be stupid to be practicing magic at the heart of Camelot. That was easy enough to accept, and so Gwen just had to decide what she was going to do about it. Reporting him to the king was out of the question, and encouraging him to find someplace safer to live would be pointless. Even revealing to him that she knew his secret might be too risky, since it was difficult for servants to guarantee any sort of privacy for sensitive discussions.

After a night spent tossing and turning in her bed, Gwen could only see one path forward: she would keep Merlin's secret and try her best to save him from his own impulsivity. Merlin was one of the bravest people Gwen knew, but he was also one of the most foolish. Anyone who would walk up to Prince Arthur and call him an ass clearly needed somebody to watch their back.

So whenever Merlin eased his chores or saved a life with a whispered spell, Gwen tried her best to deflect and distract. She even went so far as to pour wine down the front of Morgana's dress during a banquet, just to make sure nobody's attention drifted to where Merlin stood against the wall with his eyes glowing gold.

All things considered, it was shockingly easy to adjust to this new normal in which she regularly committed treason. She still joked with Merlin when their masters were distracted, and she still carefully brushed Morgana's hair each evening before returning home to find her father at work in his forge.

The one thing that really seemed to change during those months was Arthur: within weeks of Merlin's arrival in Camelot, the stuck-up bully persona he'd been toting around for years began to melt away. It was as though a great weight had been lifted from the prince's shoulders, and Gwen didn't think she'd ever seen him as happy as he was when allowing Merlin to make fools of them both. Still, the sight of his father was enough to stifle his smiles; and Gwen thought to herself that it must be awfully lonely to be the heir to a great kingdom.

The only time that Gwen felt truly tempted to go to Merlin for magical assistance was the day her father was jailed for witchcraft.

After he was dragged off by the guard, she found herself standing outside the door to the physician's quarters; chewing on her lip as she considered the risks of barging in there and demanding that Merlin break Tom out of his cell. She took a step towards the door, as her mind raced with the possibilities. Merlin might not be powerful enough to free a royal prisoner. If Merlin was caught, then he and likely Gwen would be executed alongside Tom in the morning. Even if the mad jailbreak succeeded, where would Tom go? They were two days' ride from the border of Camelot, and had no connections beyond the kingdom. At least Uther had allowed for a trial. There was a chance Tom could still be found innocent. Gwen knew it was a slim hope, but it was all she had to hold onto. Staying still and letting Camelot's farce of a legal system run its course felt like a betrayal, but she could almost hear her father's voice in her head telling her that he wasn't worth the risk. She focused on that fact as her teeth dug into her lip hard enough to draw blood.

It might be selfish to even think it, but deep in her bones she knew that Tom would gladly die if it kept either of his children safe. Gwen was meant to be the sensible one in the family. She was the one who kept out of trouble, and on some level she knew that Tom and Elyan depended on the knowledge that they could risk themselves without worrying about Gwen reaping the consequences. Though the thought twisted through her gut like a serpent, Gwen knew that the greatest kindness she could offer her father would be to protect herself. Still, it was days like this that made her yearn for a dash of Morgana's courage or Merlin's irreverence. At least if she threw her life away to protect somebody she loved, she'd never need to learn what it was like to live without them.

Gwen wondered if this was what it was like to be a stag caught in the sights of Arthur's crossbow. She could accept her fate now, or make things a little more sporting for the hunters.

Elyan wouldn't have hesitated. Elyan wouldn't even need a sorcerer friend; he would have charged into the dungeons on his own and laid waste to anyone who tried to take his father from him. But Elyan was gone to who-knows-where, and Gwen couldn't even send him a letter begging him to come home. Her brother may be brave, but at least Gwen would be there to hold their father's hand through the bars of his cell.

The sweet tang of blood on Gwen's tongue was a poor substitute for her family's arms around her. She could feel her eyes burning with unshed tears, and Gaius' door taunted her with its closeness. She only needed to take a few more steps before she would be able to wrench it open. Merlin would help her without wasting a second to consider the consequences. Gwen wondered what it felt like to be that free.

That was how Morgana found her; frozen in front of the physician's chambers and emitting a strange choking sound. She wasted no time in wrapping Gwen up in a tight embrace, and some corner of Gwen's consciousness yearned to rip herself away. She was supposed to be the one who held Morgana steady when she faltered, and if she couldn't even do that then what good was she to anybody?

Still, Gwen was weak, and she couldn't deny herself the comfort of Morgana's arms. She couldn't stop herself from sobbing into her lady's shoulder, and she couldn't resist when Morgana began to guide her back towards her chambers.

By morning, Tom was dead. Shot by a guard while trying to escape from the dungeon.

Gwen knew she should be disappointed that he robbed himself of a trial, but all she could think was that a crossbow bolt was far kinder than a pyre. She remembered the faceless woman who had saved her life as an infant, and wondered if she'd been given the same choice. If Merlin would one day need to decide which method of execution suited him best. And when Morgana confessed, tears glittering in her eyes, that she feared she might have magic; Gwen wondered if being sensible meant standing by the sidelines as all the people dearest to her were ripped away.

In the weeks after her father's death, Gwen barely slept a night in the house she'd shared with him.

It started simply: one night, after Morgana had retired to bed, Gwen was going about her chores as usual. She doused the fire in the grate and tidied everything that had been left out during the day. She was halfway through setting out Morgana's dress for the next morning when she heard the shrieking.

Gwen let the fine silk gown slip between her fingers as she rushed to Morgana's side, barely hesitating before she climbed into the bed. It certainly wasn't proper for a servant to share space this closely with her mistress, but Gwen could never deny Morgana anything; especially not when she was so clearly suffering.

It wasn't much, but Gwen knew how to keep her body steady as she wrapped her arms around Morgana's shuddering form. At first it was like holding a corpse, but gradually Gwen could feel the life seep back into Morgana's limbs. Her body tightened furiously around Gwen's, in contrast to the aching gentleness with which Gwen ran her hands over Morgana's back and whispered reassurances into her hair. The sound of Morgana's gasping breaths rattled through the chambers as Gwen did her best to match the pressure of her friend's arms. This was what she was good at. She could stay calm and provide comfort, even when her own world was spiraling out of control.

Gwen was always humbled to see Morgana like this. As the king's ward, she was expected to be perfectly polished and refined at all times. As the king's most public critic, she could never allow herself to falter in her convictions. No one in the castle doubted Morgana's strength, but if they knew how often she was reduced to a sobbing mess that clung to a maid for support, her voice would lose what little sway it held over the people.

Still, even when her green eyes were wide with terror and her body lost control of itself, Gwen knew that Morgana was far stronger than any of the men on the council who called her a spoiled child—and she was certainly stronger than the king who discarded innocent lives as casually as he drew breath. With Morgana's fingers digging fiercely into her back, Gwen wondered if anyone else in all of Camelot could ever understand just how strong she was.

At last, Morgana's breathing began to settle, and she drew her head up from where it had nestled against Gwen's shoulder. "Thank you," she whispered, with the ghost of a smile.

Gwen returned the smile as she continued to gently stroke Morgana's back. "Of course, my lady," she said. Holding her close like this, Gwen could see the shadows under Morgana's eyes. Her beautiful hair was in disarray, and Gwen ached to put it to rights—as though a tidy appearance would somehow conjure a tidy mind. It was a lovely dream, that she might be able to erase the stress clouding Morgana's nights with a wave or her hand or a brush of her lips.

With that thought, Gwen felt the urge to stand up and declare herself done for the night. It was hardly productive for her to lose herself in daydreams of a world in which it was her place to care for Morgana so tenderly.

Perhaps she should have left then, but the grip of Morgana's arms remained as fierce as iron. Gwen told herself that she was doing more than indulging a selfish desire when she let herself support Morgana's body; when she allowed herself to stand between her and the world during the fragile hours after night fell. Perhaps it was not a servant's job to comfort her mistress in this way, but who else would do it? If Gwen left, would there be anybody in the world who cared to keep Morgana safe?

Eventually, Morgana's grip began to loosen, and Gwen ignored the twinge in her chest when she felt their bodies slip apart. Even with inches of space opening up between them, Morgana's face was still unguarded. Gwen shoved down whatever feelings bubbled up at the sight, and began to clamber to the edge of the bed. Once she had her feet underneath her, she pretended not to notice the flicker of emotion in Morgana's eyes.

"Will that be all, my lady?" she asked as calmly as she could, as though this was any regular encounter between a servant and a noblewoman.

When Morgana looked up at her from her nest of white blankets, Gwen couldn't deny the ache in her heart. On any other night, this would be the moment in which Morgana's defenses returned. She would summon her resolve and smile and tell Gwen to walk home safely, and they would both pretend that they could sleep peacefully through the rest of the night.

On this night, Morgana's expression was still heartbreakingly fragile as she bit her lip and turned her gaze away from Gwen. "Well," she said without a flicker of her usual confidence, "if it wouldn't be too much to ask, I was wondering if you might remain by my side a little longer tonight. I fear I will need my rest, and," she took a breath as if steadying herself, "I'm not sure how I can get that without you."

Internally, Gwen wondered if this was what it felt like to be struck by lightning. Morgana's words raced through her body; leaving a trail of sparks in their wake. Gwen wanted to deny her instincts, but what would be the use? It wasn't as though anyone was waiting at home for her. After a moment's pause, she said the only thing that she could.

"Of course, my lady." Anything you need, she added silently.

The grin that split Morgana's face was worth whatever it would cost when King Uther found out about Gwen's rapidly growing list of secrets.

Morgana lifted her blankets in a clear invitation, and Gwen paused to remove her shoes and dress before slipping in alongside her. Clothed only in her shift, the feeling of Morgana's skin against hers suddenly felt far more tangible.

Lying there, stiff and awkward, Gwen felt as though she'd stumbled into the wrong room while preparing the castle for a feast. Like it was only a matter of time before somebody realized that she didn't belong. Except this was far worse than being ordered around by a cook who didn't seem to understand she was talking to a maidservant, because it was Morgana, and Gwen wasn't sure that she could survive the moment when she inevitably realized what was wrong with their position.

Clearly able to sense the tension running through Gwen's body, Morgana scoffed from where she lay. "You of all people should know that I don't bite." She reached out an arm towards Gwen. "Now come here and keep me company."

And well, what else could Gwen do? She gradually allowed her body to relax beneath Morgana's touch, and the two of them eventually drifted off into sleep. And if either of them woke during the night, the other was there to keep her tethered.

After that, it became an unspoken rule that Gwen would no longer return to her house at the end of the day. Instead, she would change into a nightgown behind Morgana's folding screen, and prepare herself for bed in the adjoining servant's quarters. She was a light sleeper, and the moment Morgana's rest was disturbed, Gwen would rush to her side and hold her until the nightmares faded. She never asked about sharing the same bed again, and Morgana never offered. What they had was frightening and inexplicable, but it was theirs; and Gwen knew better than to question these sorts of miracles.

It was a few weeks into their new arrangement that Morgana confessed, tears in her eyes, that she was afraid she might be a sorcerer. In that instant, it was as though everything finally clicked into place in Gwen's mind—the nightmares, the fires, the fear. Without thinking, she lifted a hand to cup Morgana's cheek. "Oh my lady, you must have been so afraid."

Morgana choked out a laugh, as relief illuminated her features. "So you believe me?"

"Of course, of course I do," Gwen whispered as she ran her thumb over the tear tracks that cut through Morgana's face.

Morgana almost seemed shy as she lowered her eyes to Gwen's. "Do you know what I should do?"

At that, Gwen faltered. She technically knew quite a lot about sheltering a magic user in Camelot, but she didn't think that Morgana's situation was really all that similar to Merlin's. From what Gwen had observed, Merlin seemed if anything to be overconfident in his use of magic. He always had a spell on hand, while Morgana couldn't stop the magical energy ripping through her body.

Perhaps Merlin could somehow guide Morgana in her use of magic, though Gwen wasn't quite sure what that would look like. She felt tempted for a moment to simply tell Morgana the truth; that she was not alone. But it couldn't be that easy. As much as Gwen cared for Morgana, Merlin was her best friend and she would not betray his secret.

Finally, she found the words she'd been looking for. "I don't know," she answered honestly. "But I will be here for you every step of the way. And I'm not the only one. People care for you, Morgana. Far more than they care for the king's laws."

"Who, Arthur?" Morgana scoffed. "He might chafe at Uther's rulings, but he would never disobey him outright. Not for me."

Gwen shook her head. "Forgive me, my lady, but I don't think that's true. And even if it were, you have other friends." She hesitated for a moment, before adding "you have Merlin." She would not tell Morgana the truth directly, but perhaps she could still arrange for a certain understanding to be reached.

"Merlin?" Morgana repeated with a bewildered look in her eyes. "What would he know about magic?"

"Well, he helped us shelter the druid boy," Gwen shrugged as casually as she could. "If nothing else, he is a loyal friend who is sympathetic to sorcerers, and I don't believe he would betray you." The words spilled out before she quite knew what she was saying. "Even if he knows no more about magic than you or I, it would still be a comfort for you to have someone else on your side." The mistruth tasted bitter on Gwen's tongue, but it was worth it to see some of the tension bleed out of Morgana's frame.

"Perhaps you're correct," Morgana conceded. If Gwen was not imagining things, there was even a faint smile on her face.

With the mood somewhat calmed, Gwen suddenly became away of just how close the two of them were standing. Her hand had at some point drifted down from Morgana's cheek to settle on her forearm, and that gentle touch seemed far too casual for the daylight hours. They were safe in Morgana's chambers, but Gwen knew better than to consider any room in Camelot truly free from the king's scrutiny.

Grudgingly, she let go of Morgana and took a step towards the door. "If you can spare me, my lady, I promised one of the seamstresses that I would help her mend Sir Dinadan's saddlebag." This was technically true, but Gwen had a far different destination in mind. When Morgana released her with a soft nod, Gwen marched straight for the physician's quarters.

Some might say that Gwen and Merlin were too intimate with each other. It was true that Gwen knew far too many details about his personal life (and by extension the personal lives of Gaius and Prince Arthur), and perhaps Merlin heard more than he needed to about her opinions on certain noblemen; but it was in situations like these that Gwen was grateful for her precise knowledge of where Merlin would be at any given time.

On that day, she knew he was locked in Gaius's chambers relabeling the many jars of medicinal herbs. The old physician had been called to assist with a birth in the lower town, and he apparently hoped that occupying Merlin with busywork would keep him from getting distracted as he temporarily took up the mantle of healer to the court.

Predictably, Gwen cracked the door to see a quill working furiously at its task without a hand to hold it. Merlin was casually lounging at the workbench and watching the jar hover before his eyes, until Gwen made a show of shoving open the door and loudly greeting him.

Merlin squawked indignantly, and tried to act as though the jar and quill that had just dropped onto the table in front of him had been sitting there all along.

"Gwen!" he cried with an enthusiasm that bordered on mania. "What brings you to my humble cell?"

She laughed. "You've spent time in the actual dungeons before, surely keeping up with Gaius's work can't be that awful."

"Yes, but at least in the dungeons there's guards to talk to," Merlin groaned. "Here it's all herbs and bandages. I don't think I've seen a soul since Gaius left before dawn." He gestured at the dusty shelves, which pointedly refused to comment.

Gwen sighed in mock sympathy. "Well Camelot's hours of unusual health are over," she announced as she stepped fully into the room. "Lady Morgana has run out of her sleeping draught, and she's asked me to retrieve a new vial."

Merlin wrinkled his brow. "She sent you? Usually she just waits for Gaius to deliver it to her chambers." Despite the faint confusion in his tone, he dutifully retrieved the ingredients necessary to mix up a new batch of the potion. Though he was far from a perfect physician, Merlin had certainly picked up a few things from Gaius in the time since his arrival in Camelot.

For a moment, Gwen stumbled over what to say. This was the tricky part of lying: carving out a space around the truth, and leaving something else in its stead. Fortunately, she had worked out her explanation while walking across the castle. "Yes," she agreed, "but her nightmares have been getting worse lately, and she's been running through it much faster than before." Gwen's gut twisted as the falsehoods began to flow. Merlin deserved better from her, but she consoled herself with the knowledge that it was only a temporary obfuscation of the truth. She was just nudging him and Morgana towards a collision that would surely have occurred anyways.

From his place at the workbench, Merlin's rapid chopping of herbs hesitated for a moment. "I'm sorry. Has she been dreaming of anything in particular?"

Gwen shook her head. "She hasn't mentioned anything lately, but I know they trouble her." She took a deep breath, and when Merlin refrained from adding anything, she ploughed onward. "If I'm being honest, I'm worried that something awful might come from them soon."

Though his motions had returned to their regular rhythm, Gwen could still see the tension in Merlin's frame. "What do you mean?"

"It's just that she's been so isolated," Gwen said honestly. "It's like she's afraid of something—maybe even afraid of herself. I don't know what it is that's haunting her, but these don't feel like regular nightmares." The words were coming faster, as Gwen began to pour out her genuine fear for Morgana's safety. "I keep thinking," she muttered, "if only she knew what it all meant. If only she knew she wasn't alone." Gwen wondered if that would be enough to push Merlin in the right direction, but she found that once she started speaking it was very difficult to stop. Her hands were moving in pace with her words, as her body gave in to the agitation that had been bubbling within her for months. "I try my best to comfort her, but it's like stumbling through the woods at night without a torch. I don't know what to do, other than bring more sleeping draughts and hope it all goes away. She's done so much for me, and I fear there's nothing I can do for her. No way to bring her peace." Without meaning to, Gwen found herself dangerously close to tears. She clamped her eyes shut tight, and tried not to think of what would happen if something went wrong.

Even though she knew that Morgana's dreams were the result of magic, she still felt just as lost and afraid as she'd been since the nightmares began. If anything, the knowledge was just confirmation that they truly needed to be afraid until they found a way to control it. Maybe Merlin could be their saving grace, but then what? Gwen would still be trapped between two of the people she loved the most, waiting for the executioner's ax to fall. Morgana was not like Merlin. She was no servant boy who drifted around the edges of the castle beneath the notice of any besides his closest friends; she was the king's ward and expected to serve as the center to Camelot's shining sun. She spent every moment of the day under constant scrutiny, and even a glimmer of gold in her eyes would surely be spotted in an instant.

Clearly sensing Gwen's distress, Merlin rose from his workbench and tentatively placed a hand on her shoulder. When she leaned into the touch, he allowed his arm to wrap all the way around her body. His heartbeat was solid against her chest, and Gwen gratefully melted into the embrace. With her eyes closed, she could almost pretend that the taller person enveloping her was her brother or her father. She buried her face in his shoulder and did her best to ignore all the ways his stringy torso felt unfamiliar in comparison to Tom and Elyan's firm muscles or Morgana's soft curves. He was so undeniably Merlin even in the way that he hugged, and it almost made Gwen want to laugh at the absurdity.

"You alright there?" he asked, though his voice was muffled by a mouthful of Gwen's hair. Gwen giggled in a way that hopefully didn't make her sound deranged, and gently pulled back to give Merlin a little breathing room.

"Yeah, I'll be okay. I guess I just needed to talk to somebody."

Merlin smiled crookedly at her. "Well, my door is always open," he assured her. "Except for the fact that it's Gaius' door, and I'm usually behind Arthur's door anyways," he added. "Still, I'll kick either of them out if you need me."

Gwen's possibly-deranged giggles made a return at that. "You'll kick the crown prince of Camelot out of his own chambers so that you can listen to me complain?"

"Never doubt it," Merlin confirmed with the same confident grin that he used for explaining stolen food. "Waiting in the hall will instill virtues like patience that are necessary for a future king, and lounging around in nice chairs eating grapes will give us the energy to provide our finest service to the lords and ladies of the court."

"Well, as long as it's good for the kingdom, I suppose I'll have to keep that in mind." Gwen couldn't help but relax under the force of Merlin's lighthearted charm. She knew for a fact that he was hiding more than his share of deadly secrets, but the joy and energy that seeped through his smiles still felt anything but false.

It took a few more minutes for Merlin to finish brewing the sleeping draught, in which he kept Gwen entertained with a nonstop stream of castle gossip. He'd somehow gotten involved in a young scullery maid's scheme to steal a castle horse, and was just describing the precise shade of purple the guard's face had turned when a muffled voice called "Merlin!" from somewhere above.

Merlin rolled his eyes. "I think that's my cue. Should've known Arthur couldn't go a full day without ordering me around." He threw a final ingredient into the vial before passing the finished potion into Gwen's hand, and he was already halfway out the door by the time she had stowed it safely in her apron pocket. She rushed to catch up, and the two of them made their way down the hall in companionable silence.

When they reached the place where Merlin had to turn off to reach Arthur's chambers, he cast a jaunty wave in Gwen's direction before nearly tripping over his own feet as he spun around. Once she was sure he wasn't hurt, Gwen allowed herself a moment to laugh at his misfortune before continuing along the familiar pathway to Morgana's rooms.

For the first time since her father's death—perhaps the first time since she learned Merlin's secret—Gwen could feel something awfully similar to hope winding its way through her chest.

Hope was the farthest thing from Gwen's mind as she tried desperately to mend Morgana's finest green gown. She was meant to wear it for the feast that evening, since the color had a symbolic association with whatever the occasion was, but Gwen had pulled it out that morning to see that the train had been nibbled through in a half dozen places by some industrious rats. With her sewing kit and a collection of scrap fabric, Gwen was making her best effort to turn the ruined train into something that seemed, if not cohesive, at least artistic. She had four hours left before Morgana would need to dress for the evening, and things were looking grim.

It had been a week since Gwen's conversations with Morgana and Merlin in which she urged them to speak with one another, and she hadn't heard from either of them on the subject since. Gwen was starting to fear that they might need a little more encouragement to figure out their common "gift," but she didn't have much energy left to worry about that. She and Merlin had both been kept busier than usual as preparations for the festival entered full swing, and even Morgana was distracted from her nightmares by all of her daytime responsibilities.

Wrists aching from the ceaseless motion of stitching, Gwen hardly noticed when Morgana breezed into the room. She was vaguely aware of her friend coming to stand over her shoulder to look at her work, but Gwen was honestly too frazzled to pay it any attention.

She looked at the candle on Morgana's table, and saw that another half-mark had passed. At the rate she was going, Gwen was never going to finish in time. Morgana surely wouldn't mind, but Gwen hated to be the cause of any uproar—no matter how minor—amongst the nobles who were always circling Camelot like vultures.

So absorbed was she in her work, Gwen didn't notice Morgana whispering her name from behind her. It took a gentle nudge at her shoulder to break Gwen out of her concentration, and she nearly stabbed herself with a needle in response to the impact.

"Goodness, Gwen, I didn't mean to startle you!" Morgana gasped.

"Oh it's not your fault, my lady," Gwen insisted. "I just got a little lost in my work." She exhaled softly in an attempt to quiet her racing heart. She had certainly been alone too long if company could send her jumping out of her skin.

The moment Gwen's breathing settled, she was able to notice that something had changed in Morgana's demeanor. For the past weeks and months, it seemed like every night added a new weight to her shoulders. Since she had confided her secret in Gwen she had lost some of the fear in her eyes, but her body still sagged under the pressure of all her restless nights. But for the first time in a long while, Morgana appeared genuinely excited about something. Energy thrummed through her body, and she was bouncing on her feet in a most unladylike manner.

Catching Gwen's eye, Morgana grinned unrepentantly. "Well, let's not worry about work right now. Today is meant to be a celebration!"

Gwen chuckled as she returned to her sewing. "Yes, my lady, and I will celebrate as soon as I know you have a decent gown to dance in."

"Oh, I can dance in anything," Morgana said breezily, and to prove her point she grabbed Gwen's hand and pulled her up into a clumsy twirl. Needle clattering to the ground, Gwen couldn't say that she minded the disruption as she let Morgana lead her through the steps of some complicated dance she'd seen the nobles perform at many feasts.

Gwen's plain skirts swirled alongside Morgana's day dress, and Gwen would probably be noticing little details like how the colors complemented each other or how sweetly Morgana was smiling, but most of her attention was focused on not toppling to the floor. Morgana's hands were firm as they held her, but Gwen certainly did not know the steps to this dance and Morgana had certainly never danced the lead to it. Still, Gwen was quite used to intuiting Morgana's needs, and she quickly found herself noticing little clues about what she would do next. A tightening of Morgana's grip or a glance of her eyes told Gwen exactly where she needed to be if she wanted to match Morgana's movements, and the two of them fell into a rhythm that felt familiar in a way Gwen really didn't have the energy to explore.

After a few minutes, Gwen was starting to feel confident enough in her dancing to spare a thought for how brilliantly Morgana seemed to be glowing and how the dark shadows under her eyes had retreated for the first time in months. Morgana was always beautiful, but Gwen had nearly forgotten how captivating she could be when she was carefree. Laughter was spilling from her lips; a genuine hearty laugh, not the tinkling little giggle she utilized in court. It was a laugh as rich as the chocolate tarts Gwen's mother had made when she was very small, and Gwen thought absently that hearing it every day would be the sweetest treat she could ever hope for.

As Morgana attempted to pull Gwen through a complicated twist that really relied on having other couples around, Gwen did her best to keep up but wasn't quite sure where to put her feet. With a slight misstep, her heel found its way onto the hem of Morgana's dress; and Morgana's eyes widened as her body continued on its path heedless of the new restriction in place. There was very little Morgana could do to control the fall, but Gwen's arms tightened urgently around her body before she could make it to the floor.

The two of them froze for a moment, as Gwen felt Morgana's heartbeat thudding against her own chest. Their faces were only inches apart, and Gwen couldn't help but notice that even after her fall, there was no tension in Morgana's expression. She was simply smiling faintly at Gwen, as though there was nowhere she'd rather be than halfway to the floor with a servant struggling to hold her up.

"Well, maybe this dress does get in the way of some dances," Morgana breathed, and Gwen realized just how silent the room had been up until that point. She nodded in agreement, though her brain felt a little like it had been filled with freshly spun wool.

Straightening up, Gwen made sure that Morgana was solidly on her feet before crouching down to retrieve her forgotten sewing supplies. "What's gotten into you today, my lady?"

Morgana smiled that strangely carefree smile again and sighed happily. "It's just a good day, that's all."

"Right, 'just a good day' that has you acting like magic's been legalized." Gwen was shocked by how easily the treason slipped from her lips. After their mad dance, it was entirely too easy to let herself give voice to things she'd long kept buried. Nothing would make Morgana happier than a guarantee that she was safe to be herself, but Gwen knew better than to bandy about those sorts of ideas within the castle walls.

Blissfully unaware of Gwen's sudden tension, Morgana merely laughed at the comment. "Not quite, but the next best thing. I finally decided that it was time to tell Merlin about my…gifts, and he was wonderful! Just as you said, he was perfectly reassuring, and he even—well, I think it's something he should tell you himself, but it really is so exciting."

Gwen had a solid inkling of what exactly Merlin had told Morgana that was so thrilling, but she kept quiet and instead focused on how sincerely delighted she was to hear that her two best friends had connected at last.

"That is wonderful!" Gwen declared, and she stood up once more to wrap Morgana in a brief hug. "You deserve all this and more," she added as she pulled away.

"So would you be willing to discuss this with Merlin today?" Morgana inquired eagerly.

Gwen was halfway to agreeing before she remembered her obligations. Shoulders slumping, she shook her head. "I'm sorry, my lady, but I truly must focus all of my attentions this afternoon on repairing your gown for the feast. In all honesty I've already let myself be distracted for too long." With an apologetic smile she sank back into her seat and went to gather her sewing supplies when Morgana's hand whipped out to grab her wrist.

"That won't be necessary, Gwen."

"I'm sure the king would disagree," Gwen said as firmly as she could. "I'm overjoyed with this news, but I cannot just abandon my duties before a festival."

Morgana rolled her eyes but did not release Gwen's hand. Instead, she pointed to the halfway repaired fabric still spread across the table. "No, what I mean is—look!" She thrust her free hand out over the damaged gown and spoke those same strange words that Gwen had half-heard from Merlin on many occasions. In an instant, the fabric bonded itself back together as surely as if it had never been torn. The delicate golden thread snaked its way across the silk to embroider the sorts of simple yet stunning designs that Gwen could never manage to achieve on her own.

The magic was incredible to behold, but Gwen found herself drawn away from the spell to focus on the light emanating from Morgana's eyes. It was similar to the golden shine she'd seen often from Merlin, but it looked different in Morgana. Gwen realized that she'd never actually seen Morgana do any sort of magic before, but it seemed so immediately right for her to be this confident and in control of her powers.

"My lady!" she gasped.

Morgana exhaled sharply, and Gwen caught a smug twist to her lip. "I may have been practicing a little," she confessed with a casual wave of her hand.

Gwen laughed with disbelief. "I can see that."

Somehow managing to still look elegant, Morgana gathered the gown into her arms and draped it over the top of her changing screen. "Now, if that was all you had to take care of this afternoon, how about I call Merlin up here?"

A few minutes later, Merlin was rushing into the room with feathers sticking out of his hair and a strange stain covering his left half. "Sorry for the delay," he panted out before the door had swung shut behind him. "A guard told me you'd called for me, but I was helping in the kitchens because Arthur was driving me mad, and they really don't like to let you leave once you make yourself useful down there."

Gwen raised her eyebrows at Merlin's disheveled appearance but pointedly didn't say anything.

Merlin caught her look and made a face in return. "Have you been taking lessons from Gaius? Because that's truly uncanny."

She shrugged pleasantly. "I have no idea what you're talking about." If she wanted to take notice of how easily Gaius managed to wrangle even the wildest denizens of the castle, that was her own business.

Morgana clapped her hands excitedly. "Well, we're glad to have you here now, Merlin. I had just been telling Gwen about how you'd reacted so kindly to the news of my magic."

Gwen fought the urge to flinch at how casually Morgana used the term, but neither of her companions took any notice of it. Merlin simply nodded sheepishly, and said "yeah, well, I figure it's the least I can do."

"Well I still think it's wonderful," Gwen cut in. "I know it isn't easy to keep this sort of secret, and I'm glad you're willing to go so far for Morgana."

Merlin chuckled. "Well, you're doing pretty great yourself, from how she tells it." The words sent a thrill of warmth through Gwen, and she felt a blush rising to her cheeks. She was certainly doing something with Morgana, though she wasn't quite sure what it was.

"Yes, well," Gwen stammered, "what she told me is that you've got something else to share."

At those words, Merlin's entire body stiffened. He chiseled his face into a stiff grin, and nodded jerkily. Morgana shot him an encouraging smile, and with a deep breath he met Gwen's eyes. "Yeah," he said, "that's right."

Sensing his trepidation, Gwen nodded gently for Merlin to continue. "Well, you see, I've never quite fit in anywhere," he began. "Ever since I was a kid, I was always causing more trouble than I knew what to do with. And that's because—" he cut himself off and swerved into a new train of thought. "Do you remember that day in Ealdor when the bandits were chased off by a windstorm?" he asked.

Gwen nodded again, and Merlin licked his lips. "When my friend Will said that he conjured that storm, he wasn't exactly telling the truth. He was such a good bloke till the end, and he just wanted to—" he paused again, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes for a moment. "He just wanted to protect me. Because I was the one who called the wind."

"Ah," Gwen said awkwardly. She wasn't really sure how to feign surprise at this revelation, since she'd sort of figured out the situation with Will as it had happened the previous year.

"Because I'm a sorcerer," Merlin added helpfully, as though she'd been confused by his first confession.

"Yes, I got that."

Merlin's brow furrowed. "I'm sorry for lying to you," he whispered. "I should have known from the start that you'd never hurt me if you knew, but I was so used to hiding it from everybody. Only Gaius and my mum know, and they're both always telling me to keep it secret. So that's what I've been doing since I came to Camelot, but now you both know because you're my friends and I trust you. And I'm gonna help Morgana with her magic. I'm not an expert, but I've got some books, and the two of us can figure it out together."

"The three of us can figure it out together," Morgana corrected him.

"Yeah," Merlin agreed. "The three of us." He smiled his smile that looked like the sun coming out from behind a cloud, and Gwen felt her heart break a little. In all the time she'd been trying to protect Merlin from discovery, it had never occurred to her that he might be just as lonely as Morgana. He was always so confident in his powers; she'd assumed that he had some sort of magical training or community that he'd spent time with. Gaius must have served as a mentor to Merlin, but he was a far cry from the sort of friendship Morgana and Merlin now offered to each other.

"Is that alright with you, Gwen?" Merlin added nervously.

Gwen realized how quiet she'd been for Merlin's entire speech. She shook head a little to clear it. "Yes," she said, "yes of course it's alright. There's nothing I want more than to see you two learning how to embrace this part of yourselves." It was tempting for her to leave it at that, but Gwen knew that the time for deception had passed. "It's just," she forced herself to continue, "that I sort of already knew."

"You what?" Merlin shouted. His entire body jerked in a way that would have been comical if Gwen wasn't so focused on the emotions swirling in her gut. She had never done more than lie by omission, but it still felt awful for her to admit to everything she'd kept hidden.

Morgana gestured frantically for Merlin to keep quiet, but she was studying Gwen with a confounded gaze of her own. "Care to elaborate?"

With a shaky nod, Gwen told them the whole truth; how she'd noticed Merlin's spellcasting not long after he'd come to Camelot, and decided not to mention it to anybody. She even threw in the stuff about how she'd tried to draw attention away from Merlin whenever possible, since that seemed relevant to the whole situation.

"I never meant to keep anything from you," she implored, "I just wanted you to share it or not share it in your own time. And I wasn't sure if it would make things more dangerous for you to have me asking questions about it, so I thought it would be best to play it safe."

Morgana and Merlin were both still looking at her like she'd grown a second head, and Gwen was starting to seriously consider fleeing to the countryside when Morgana began to laugh. "So that's why you suggested that I tell Merlin about my magic."

"And why you kept telling me that Morgana needed somebody who understood what she was going through," Merlin added.

Gwen pressed her lips into a thin smile. "Well," she said awkwardly, "I couldn't just say 'you both have magic, let's talk about that.'"

"No," Morgana agreed, "you're far too clever for that."

While Gwen pondered whether or not that was a complement, Merlin seemed to be putting some pieces together in his mind. "Hang on," he pointed to Gwen, "are you saying that my magic is really that obvious?"

His face had darkened a bit, and Gwen rushed to reassure him. "No, you've done a great job staying hidden," she promised. "It's just that nobody else watches you as closely as I do. None of the nobles care what you do because you're a servant, and none of the servants know you well enough to keep track of you since you're always so busy with Arthur."

Gwen's words seemed to relax Merlin for a moment, but he quickly stiffened again. "So you're saying that Arthur might have noticed?" He asked, panic blazing in his eyes.

Morgana snorted at that idea. "Just because Arthur's around you all the time doesn't mean he's noticed anything. He's good at planning battles and making nice with princesses, but he's brainless without a sword in his hand or a crown on his head."

If Merlin felt any urge to argue with that point, he buried it quickly.

The three of them let themselves be still for a moment, as they examined each other in light of these new revelations. Morgana wasn't walking on clouds in the same way she'd been earlier, but she still carried herself with a certain ease that had been missing for a long time. On the other side of the room, Merlin's eyes flicked between Morgana and Gwen as though he was trying to remind himself they were real.

After a moment, Morgana was the one to break the silence.

"So, what do we do next?"

In an immediate sense, what they did next was attend a feast. It was much like hundreds of other feasts Gwen had witnessed during her years in Camelot, except for the fact that she, Merlin, and Morgana couldn't seem to stop throwing each other looks across the great hall. Gwen tried her best to remain professional, but there was something contagious about the giddy grins that Morgana and Merlin both continuously failed to stifle.

Luckily, most of the nobles were too deep into their cups to notice a couple of servants acting foolish or the king's ward's wandering eye. Even King Uther was jolly, as he exchanged words with a visiting lord who he'd known since they were both boys. Only Arthur paid them any mind, as he appeared to be testing whether or not he could catch Merlin's attention from sheer force of will. Unfortunately for him, no level of glaring was enough to keep his manservant on task that evening, and Gwen found herself stepping forward several times to refill his goblet.

By the time the feast had ended, Gwen and her friends stumbled out into the lower town to see what was left of the festival. It was late enough that, on most nights, one would expect to see little activity beyond the doors of a tavern; but in the spirit of the celebration there were still throngs of people wandering the streets as they flitted between novelties. The major roads were illuminated by colorful lanterns that were each painted with different plants and animals, and Gwen couldn't help but relax underneath their familiar glow. Morgana overpaid for silly trinkets being sold from hastily constructed tables and Merlin whooped with joy at the fire-eaters performing in the town square, but Gwen's favorite part of the evening was simply the buzz of joy in the air. She wondered if it was something her companions brought with them, or if the people of Camelot summoned it from their combined delight at being alive.

This festival had always been a favorite of Gwen's father. She had faint memories of being a young girl, before either of her parents had died, and holding tight to her father's hand while he pointed out the decorations and their meanings. Elyan was lost in the rush by then, but Gwen couldn't remember anyone worrying too much about that. The crowds were made up of their friends and neighbors, so there were always someone to keep track of him and Elyan always knew when they needed him to return.

The bright lanterns looked different when Gwen wasn't by Tom's side, but she was glad to know that they were still beautiful.

Sometime after midnight, when all the day's excitement finally began to catch up to Gwen, she took a moment to rest on a low stone wall. Merlin was thoroughly distracted by a woman selling baskets of rare flowers, but Morgana immediately settled in beside Gwen. She turned to look at her maid, and Gwen was transfixed by the way the night stars reflected in Morgana's eyes. With that light emanating from her, it was like she was casting a spell; which might explain the tug Gwen felt in her chest.

There was something in Morgana's easy smile that felt precious. As wonderful as the day had been, Gwen wasn't naive enough to believe this feeling could last forever. She pressed her body closer to Morgana's and savored the warmth that seeped through their thin cloaks. Even if it would only last for a moment, Morgana was beside her: shimmering and golden and real.

From there, a new structure developed between the three of them. Whenever Merlin could get away from Arthur, he would lock himself in Morgana's chambers with Gwen standing guard at the door. Gwen had trouble understanding all of what the two of them did in there, but they were both eager to recount hushed details about new spells or rituals they'd attempted. Morgana's nightmares remained, but they became less frequent. Merlin theorized that as they worked at channeling her visions during her waking hours, they would no longer torment her subconscious mind.

Gwen was overjoyed by the notion that the nightmares might soon fade entirely, until it occurred to her that it would mean losing her excuse to stay in Morgana's chambers overnight. She couldn't tell whether it was more painful to leave her lady's side, or to return to a house that felt far too large for a single person. Fortunately, Morgana never suggested that such a thing would be necessary; even as they both found themselves sleeping till dawn without interruption on more than one occasion.

There was still a fair share of chaos and danger within the castle walls, but Merlin no longer faced those challenges by his lonesome. Gwen soon realized that she had only ever seen the tip of Merlin's magical struggles, as she found herself thrust into the middle of far too many deadly situations that Merlin laughed off with a disheartening level of familiarity. She still got the sense that he wasn't telling her and Morgana everything, but it was progress.

It was during this time that Gwen started to notice Arthur snooping around Morgana's chambers far more than he had any reason to. She wondered at first if he'd always kept so close by and she'd simply never noticed because she hadn't been keeping a lookout, but it swiftly became clear that he had a very specific purpose in mind.

One day, with what was clearly meant to appear like calm detachment, Arthur approached Gwen and asked her to let him in to see Morgana.

"I'm sorry, my lord, but Lady Morgana has asked specifically not to be disturbed this afternoon," Gwen replied as smoothly as she could.

Arthur raised his eyebrows at her. "Really?" he asked in a voice dripping with disdain, "because I'd been told that Merlin has been visiting with her for the past two hours while he was meant to be readying my horse for tomorrow's hunt."

Gulping nervously, Gwen searched for what to say next. Her role as lookout had been mostly symbolic up till that point, and she was starting to wish they'd worked out an actual story for why the prince's manservant might be spending such long hours engaged in private discussion with the king's ward.

The prince himself was still glaring at Gwen like she'd personally insulted his honor, and she wondered briefly if this was what it felt like to be Merlin. "Ah, well that's unfortunate," Gwen stammered in a tone that hopefully conveyed sympathy rather than panic. "I'm sure that Morgana didn't intend to deprive you of your manservant's services."

At those words, Arthur snapped to attention. "So you're saying he's in there?" he pressed. "With Morgana. Alone." He drew out each word like a sword from a sheath.

"Uh, I really can't be sure about that," Gwen desperately backtracked. "I've been so busy today that I haven't had time to check on her. I'm not even sure if she's in there right now, but I just meant that if Morgana had needed Merlin's help with something she certainly wouldn't have meant any harm by it." Her voice rose as she babbled on, which was partially due to genuine panic but also hopefully served to alert Morgana and Merlin that there was trouble outside.

Arthur's gaze darkened, which really wasn't doing anything to help Gwen's racing heart. "Aren't you supposed to keep track of her?" he growled.

"Aren't you supposed to keep track of Merlin?" Gwen countered.

Arthur's jaw twitched. "Why would I care what Merlin gets up to? I was merely looking to speak with Morgana."

"Of course, my lord," Gwen said with a differential nod. None of this was really her business, but she was starting to sense a common factor in the things that made Arthur distressed—and it certainly wasn't Morgana.

Sighing dramatically, Arthur made an impatient gesture. "So? Aren't you going to let me in?"

Gwen gritted her teeth and shook her head. "I'm sorry, but my lady has asked specifically not to be disturbed."

At that, Arthur's eyes lit up. "I thought you said you didn't even know if she was in there?" he crowed triumphantly.

Shit. Lying really did seem so easy when Merlin did it. "Well, I only meant that—"

"Sire!" a guard called as he thundered down the hallway. "The king wishes to speak with you!"

Arthur's face twisted into a scowl. "I'm not done here, Guinevere. You tell them both that the price for this foolishness will be on their heads." Gwen curtsied politely despite intending to do no such thing, and watched Arthur turn on his heel and retreat around the corner.

After that, Arthur became a nearly constant spectre over Gwen's shoulder. He was always pressing her for information on what Merlin and Morgana might be up to or why they weren't informing him of their every movement. It was a little exhausting, but his concern seemed just sincere enough for Gwen to humor it. Still, there were only so many allusions to the impossibility of relationships between servants and nobles that Gwen could take. She wondered if Arthur knew how obvious his real fears were.

(Of course, Gwen kept those thoughts to herself).

On one such occasion, Arthur found Gwen while she was carrying dishes down from Morgana's room to the kitchen. If anybody thought it was odd that Morgana had begun ordering enough food for two, they didn't raise their concerns openly.

"Ah, Guinevere!" Arthur called out.

Gwen froze like a startled deer.

Oblivious to her discomfort (or perhaps content to ignore it), Arthur strode to her side. "I'd been looking for you." Gwen didn't immediately say anything, which Arthur took as an invitation to continue speaking. "Despite what everyone seems to believe. I am not a complete idiot. You, Merlin, and Morgana have been hiding something."

It wasn't a question. Nevertheless, he clearly expected Gwen to give an answer.

Smiling tightly, Gwen racked her brain for the proper words. "I was not under the impression that you were an idiot," she assured him. "It's only that what Merlin and Morgana are doing is their business, not ours."

Arthur swelled with righteous indignation. "I am the prince, everything in this kingdom is my business," he insisted.

Gwen sighed deeply. Arthur's frustration was plain to see, but she was astounded that one person could be so entitled. She couldn't resist prodding him a little. "Perhaps if you acted less like a prince and more like a friend, they would trust you with the truth." She knew that Merlin cared deeply for Arthur, but she sometimes struggled to understand how he could bear being around a person so allergic to sincerity.

To her shock, Gwen's words seemed to strike something within Arthur. His accusatory demeanor faltered, and for the first time he seemed to genuinely look at Gwen. He was in fact looking at her rather closely, as though he were trying to puzzle her out.

The moment passed, and Arthur drew himself back to his full height. "I'll keep that in mind," he said stiffly. With that, he was gone, and Gwen was left to finish her chores in peace.

That evening, it became clear that Gwen wasn't the only one who'd noticed Arthur's odd behavior. While Gwen was arranging Morgana's pillows and Morgana herself was dressing for bed, Merlin burst through the chamber doors and announced "I think Arthur is onto us."

Slipping a robe over her nightgown, Morgana emerged from behind her screen. "And what makes you say that?" she asked with practiced nonchalance.

Merlin, maintaining his momentum from what had clearly been a mad dash through the castle, began to pace up and down the room. "It's just that he keeps…implying things about me disregarding the laws of Camelot and how I shouldn't be dragging Morgana into my," he imitated Arthur's posh accent "'reckless impulse to offend every institution this kingdom stands upon.'" Despite Merlin's obvious distress, Gwen couldn't help but giggle. Merlin gave no sign of noticing. "And he's been calling me an idiot more than usual, and trying to keep me from visiting—he's definitely alluded to it being dangerous and stupid and him not approving of my choices."

Though Merlin seemed fully prepared to continue ranting, Morgana held up a hand to silence him. "But he hasn't turned us in?"

Merlin shook his head. "No, but he clearly doesn't like it, and I'm sure he will do something to stop us if we continue on this way."

"Then what else can we do?" Morgana sat down at her table with a mighty thud and began to drum her fingers against the surface. "Should we find a new place to practice spellwork, so it's less obvious when and where we slip away?"

"Maybe," Merlin said with a furrowed brow, "but nowhere else in the castle is as secure as your chambers."

Morgana bit into her lip. "Perhaps we could—"

"Excuse me," Gwen interrupted, "but I don't believe we should be so worried about Arthur discovering your magic."

Merlin and Morgana turned to her with matching expressions of indignation upon their faces. "And you're so certain of that because of what?" Merlin asked impatiently, "because I'm the one spending all day hearing him make comments about how my poor life choices are going to land me in the dungeons."

For as clever as Merlin could be with a scheme or a spell, he really was useless at noticing things about people he cared for—no wonder he never realized that Gwen was in on his magic. "Well it's true that I don't spend nearly as much time around Arthur as you do," she admitted, "but I've been hearing from him a lot more lately. You're right that he's suspicious, but not because of the magic." Gwen closed her eyes for a moment and breathed deeply. "He thinks that you and Morgana are courting," she finally blurted out.

"He thinks what?" Merlin squawked.

Morgana's eyes widened in horror.

Lips thinning into an uncomfortable approximation of a smile, Gwen nodded. "In his defense, why else would a young man be spending all his free time alone and unsupervised with a beautiful woman?"

Merlin couldn't have looked more affronted if she'd suggested he was having an affair with Gaius. "I dunno, maybe because they're friends?"

"Nobles tend to have…different ways of expressing friendship," Gwen said diplomatically. In reality, she wasn't sure that either Arthur or Morgana had ever had many friendships to compare between.

Merlin rolled his eyes. "Yeah, like gifting a horse or arranging a marriage between their children. Is that how I convince Arthur that Morgana and I aren't involved? Should I sign a contract betrothing my future daughter to her future son?" Despite his comical words, Merlin was clearly losing energy. He flopped down onto Morgana's bed and groaned.

Across the room, Morgana's expression was still a mixture of baffled and disturbed. "With Merlin?" she finally choked out, oblivious to whatever else had been said.

"Yes, it's quite unsettling," Gwen agreed, "but look on the bright side! It should be easy enough to assure Arthur that nothing untoward is occurring, and once he believes that it's just an unorthodox yet perfectly legal friendship, things will settle down."

"Right," Merlin scoffed, "back to normal." Though Gwen had expected him to be relieved by her statement, his tone had grown far darker since realizing why exactly Arthur was suspicious.

"Are you alright?" Gwen asked. Merlin's earlier panic had been dramatic, but he was a person to whom dramatics came easily. Sulking was the real sign that he was upset.

He shrugged. "I'm fine." He clenched a fistful of Morgana's blankets. Gwen stayed silent, and Morgana did the same. The only sound in the room was Merlin's exhausted sigh. "It's just," he finally continued, "it was kind of nice to think that he knew. I mean," he added with a chuckle, "I didn't appreciate the references to me getting thrown in the dungeons for it, but I liked that he wasn't throwing me in the dungeons himself."

Looking at how small and uncertain Merlin appeared against Morgana's ornate quilt, Gwen could feel her heart break a little on his behalf.

Ever since Merlin had arrived in Camelot, he and Arthur had been like two sides of the same coin. It was impossible to find one without the other; and though they'd rather die than admit it, the care they felt for each other bled through the seams of even their most casual interactions. Merlin surely knew that Arthur would die for him, but in that moment it became clear that what he needed was for Arthur to listen to him.

After a few more minutes of contemplation, Merlin sat up from where he'd been splayed across the covers. "Maybe I should just tell him anyways."

It was subtle, but Gwen could see that Morgana's entire body was suddenly as taught as a bowstring. "Are you sure?" she asked.

Though it was far from confident, Merlin nodded. "I think so," he whispered. "I'm just so tired of lying."

"Merlin," Morgana said with deadly focus, "you do understand what you're saying, right? You're asking the crown prince of Camelot to choose between his father's laws and your life."

"Well every other decision in his life has already been made for him." Merlin grinned weakly. "Might as well let him make this one for himself."

Morgana gazed at him with a look of profound sadness in her eyes. "What are you going to do if he doesn't choose you?" There was an undercurrent of bitterness to Morgana's words that made Gwen want to rush to her side and wrap her up in a hug fierce enough to erase whatever transactional ideas of love Uther had planted in her mind.

Merlin's grin grew a little more wild, and Gwen swore she could see a glint of gold in his eyes. "You know me, Morgana. I always land on my feet."

"And you won't be falling alone," Gwen added. As brave as he was, Gwen could see the falsity beneath Merlin's words. He wouldn't be able to recover from losing Arthur, at least not by himself. Merlin jerked his head towards her in surprise. "You can't honestly think I'd let you do this without me," she scoffed affectionately.

Morgana's gaze darted between the two of them. She took a deep breath, and some of the fear in her gaze seemed to dissipate. "Me neither," she declared. "I might not agree with your choice, but you were the one who helped guide me when I felt the most lost." She smiled warmly at him. "You helped me see my magic as more than just a curse; maybe you could do the same for Arthur."

Merlin shot her a wry smile in return. "Sometimes I doubt that anybody can make Arthur see anything beyond his own nose."

"He might surprise you," Gwen insisted. "In the last year, he's certainly surprised me. You can't have noticed this, but Arthur really has changed since you came to Camelot. He would never have helped the druid boy or rescued some peasant village before meeting you, and he certainly wouldn't allow a servant to treat him like a friend in front of the entire court." She crossed the room to sit beside Merlin, and placed a hand firmly on his shoulder. "You mean more to him than just a manservant."

Merlin leaned into the touch and his eyes softened when they met Gwen's. "Well, we'll certainly see, won't we?"

Once they had made the decision to tell Arthur the truth, everything fell into place rather quickly. They agreed upon Morgana's chambers as they best place to have the conversation, since it was private and hopefully far enough away from the world in which Arthur had to be a prince and sorcerers had to be a threat. After that, all that was left was for Merlin to drag Arthur up there and hopefully rearrange his worldview a little.

On the day they'd chosen, Gwen watched from the corner of the room while Morgana paced anxiously across the floor. They hadn't discussed whether or not she'd be revealing her own secret to Arthur that night, but Gwen knew that she'd prepared for the worst. A leather satchel stuffed with essential supplies was stowed beneath her bed, and Gwen was certain that Merlin had prepared something similar. Perhaps it was foolish of Gwen not to do the same; she knew that if they had to flee, she would be right on their heels. It wouldn't be so bad to build a new life alongside her two friends in some far-off kingdom where nobody had even heard of the Pendragons. Still, preparing for that eventuality felt like admitting defeat. Gwen knew how much Arthur cared for both Merlin and Morgana, and she refused to acknowledge that there was even a chance of him turning them in.

It was never hard to sense Merlin coming, and this was doubly true when he had Arthur by his side. As soon as the muffled sounds of argument began to leak through the chamber doors, Morgana froze with a look of panic upon her face. Gwen started towards her, but before she could cross the room the moment passed. Morgana's expression shifted to that of determination, and she even met Gwen's gaze with a weak smile.

No matter what happened, they would be together.

The door creaked open.

"—Is this going to be some sort of touchy-feely sharing circle?" Arthur was complaining. "Because I'm not in the mood."

Merlin sighed as he followed the prince into the room. "How do you expect me to tell you things about my personal life without acknowledging that I've got emotions?"

"He and Uther always managed." Morgana interrupted dryly.

Arthur raised an eyebrow at his sister with barely concealed distaste. "Ah, because you're the expert on opening up about yourself." Morgana bristled with indignation, and Gwen wondered for a moment if she'd need to separate the two of them. Fortunately, Merlin got there first.

"Alright!" he declared with false cheerfulness. "We are all going to have a conversation together. That means the next person to start an argument for no good reason will volunteer to clean Gaius' leech tank. Does that make sense to everybody?" Merlin glared pointedly at Arthur and Morgana, but neither of them had anything to say.

The four of them settled down around Morgana's table, and as Gwen's fingers traced the familiar whorls in the wood she wondered if she'd ever be able to eat a meal there again without remembering this last fragile moment of peace.

"So," Merlin began, "you may have noticed that I haven't been entirely honest with you lately." Arthur rolled his eyes at that. Merlin diligently ignored him. "I am going to tell you the truth now, and I don't think you're going to like it, but you've got a right to know." He took a deep breath, and Gwen instinctively reached out a hand to settle on his arm. Merlin shot her a small smile. Gwen couldn't do much to fix what had been broken between magic users and Camelot, but at least she could make sure that Merlin knew he wasn't alone. "Before I start," he continued with his face turned directly towards Arthur, "I just want to say that you're a good friend and a good man. I know you'll be a good king someday, and I hope I'll be there to see it."

Merlin formed the words slowly and carefully, and Gwen found herself at the edge of her seat as she waited for the turning point. She wasn't the only one who could sense the sincerity in his tone, as Arthur's amused detachment melted further away with each word. His gaze flickered between Merlin, Gwen, and Morgana with growing uncertainty.

The look Arthur sent Merlin was so close to vulnerability that Gwen felt the urge to rip them apart for their own peace of mind. Instead, she gently squeezed Merlin's arm. They'd all come too far to turn back now.

"I have magic," Merlin said bluntly. His eyes widened as though he hadn't quite expected the words to come out that way, and Morgana inhaled sharply.

The room was silent for a moment.

Arthur's face twitched. His brow furrowed in confusion, and Gwen swore she could see the gears turning inside his head as he puzzled over those three simple words. It almost would have been comical, except for the icy terror with which Merlin regarded him.

"You're a fucking liar," Arthur said flatly. There was no emotion in his face, and his body was calm in a way Gwen associated with storm-clouds on the horizon or armies awaiting their orders.

"I never lied about the things that mattered," Merlin countered immediately. "My magic has been a part of me since before I can remember, and I'm sorry if that offends your delicate sensibilities, but it's true," the words spilled past his lips faster and faster. "I'm still the same person you've known for two years, and I swear that I've never used magic to hurt you or Camelot in any way." Arthur's face remained stony, so Merlin pushed onward. "I've actually been protecting you quite a bit from all the nutters who want you dead, so please say something or get angry or whatever you need to do because I can't do this without you anymore."

At that, Arthur finally jerked back to life. "You want me to get angry?" he snapped. "Why would I be angry? All you're telling me is that you've been lying to me from the moment we met, and that you've had two of my closest friends in on that deception for what must be the better part of a year." Gwen cringed a little at the realization that Arthur considered her to be a close friend. She didn't think they'd had more than a handful of conversations that didn't center on either Merlin or Morgana.

The anger faded from Arthur's gaze for a moment. "Why did they deserve to know before I did?"

Merlin looked profoundly tired. "They've never hunted sorcerers."

Suddenly, the fury was back in full force. "So that's it," Arthur sneered. "You thought I would let you die."

"Think about it, Arthur," Morgana cut in. "Can you imagine what it's like to know that your very existence is illegal? Would you seriously be so quick to trust?" Arthur's eyes widened slightly at the interruption. Gwen wondered if he could detect the sincerity beneath Morgana's words, or if he was simply surprised that she would speak up in Merlin's defense.

Arthur turned his gaze towards Merlin once more. "I'd trust the people who risked their lives for me."

Merlin choked back a bitter laugh. "You charge into danger at the drop of a hat," he said. "How was I supposed to know if you cared enough about me specifically to defy the king?"

At that, Arthur erupted out of his chair. "All I've ever done is care about you!" he roared. "I'm sorry if it's slipped your notice, but I've been defying my father for you ever since you came to Camelot. Do you think it's normal for a prince to risk his life for a servant? Do you think it's easy for me to explain why I need you by my side?" He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "Nobody else has a manservant trailing their every step, because that's not what servants are for." Arthur hesitated, and his next words were far softer. "You were—I thought you were the truest friend I'd had in all my life. And apparently you thought I would kill you at a moment's notice."

A stunned silence blanketed the room, and all three of them stared at Arthur. His expression was firm and fixed upon Merlin; as though he was challenging Merlin to call him a fool for what he'd said.

Everybody knew that Merlin could never resist a challenge.

He let out a sigh. "You could have just said something."

At those words, all of the fight drained out of Arthur. He sagged forward until he was leaning against the chair. "It's never been that easy for me," he said, refusing to meet anyone's gaze.

"Maybe it could be," Merlin murmured.

Arthur lifted his head again, and his face twisted into the ghost of a smile. "You would say that, wouldn't you?"

There wasn't even a trace of humor in Merlin's face. "Look, I know it sounds impossible right now. I thought it was impossible too. For a long time I believed that I'd never really be able to be honest with anybody. My whole life had to be a lie, because otherwise it'd be over in an instant. But Gwen and Morgana found out, and they're still here. I told you, and you're still here too," he glanced towards Arthur. "At least, I hope you are." Faintly, Arthur's head dipped forward.

"I'm sorry I lied, and I'm sorry I didn't trust you. But I'm trusting you now. Isn't that enough?" Merlin pleaded.

Arthur closed his eyes for a moment and exhaled deeply. "It'll have to be."

With that, it was like the final piece of a puzzle had finally slipped into place. All the tension melted out of Merlin's body, and Gwen could hear Morgana heave a sigh of relief. Even Arthur seemed closer to peace, from where he stood on the other side of the table.

"But you have to mean it," Arthur said while pointing a finger aggressively at Merlin's chest. "I expect to be kept informed of everything to do with your magic in the past, present, and future. Especially if it's dangerous"

Merlin tugged at his neckerchief. "Right, of course. Of course I mean it."

"So tell me everything, and I'll probably be mad at you for a while, and then we'll get over it."

Merlin smirked. "If we made it past you attempting to kill me with a mace, anything's possible."

From there, Gwen got the sense that she and Morgana really weren't necessary anymore. They'd stood up for Merlin when he needed it, but Arthur clearly wasn't a threat to him and heart-to-hearts rarely benefited from audiences.

She rose from the table and gently tugged on Morgana's sleeve. "Come on, my lady. I think they need time to discuss this all." Gwen was a little surprised by how easily Morgana followed her out of the room. The door shut behind them, and Gwen could hear the rise and fall of voices on the other side, though she couldn't make out any words.

In the hallway, everything was strikingly normal. The sun filtered through the windows like it did on every other afternoon, and the stone floors were just as solid as they'd been for decades. The only thing that appeared changed was Morgana; who stood beside Gwen with all the steadiness of a newborn deer. Gwen gently wrapped an arm around her waist, and she was pleased to feel how Morgana melted into the touch.

"Are you alright, my lady?" she whispered.

Morgana nodded silently.

The two of them stood there for a long while, and Gwen listened to the buzz of Merlin and Arthur's voices from the other side of the door. Much of the time they were perhaps closer to shouting than to having a calm conversation, but Gwen restrained herself from barging in to defend Merlin's honor. She had never quite understood the way Arthur and Merlin cut and jabbed at each other, but it was undeniably comfortable for them. Perhaps some time alone to work out all their emotions would be just what they needed.

Gwen may not have everything figured out, but at least there was a path laid out before them. Merlin and Arthur would sort out their stories, and find how to fit themselves into this new reality. She could continue to support Morgana when she faltered, and Morgana could continue to give her spirit when everything seemed impossible.

Eventually, Morgana broke the silence. "He didn't care about the—about Merlin's secret." Her voice was strained, and her eyes were fixed on the opposing wall. Gwen wondered just how prepared she'd been to knock Arthur out and grab her satchel from beneath the bed. Did Morgana have a plan for which horses they'd steal from the stables, and which road they'd take out of Camelot?

Gently, Gwen's thumb began to trace patterns in the fabric of Morgana's gown. "No, no he didn't," she replied.

"But I didn't tell him about mine." Morgana turned her head towards Gwen, and the pain in her eyes was undeniable. "Why couldn't I tell him?"

"You will," Gwen reassured her with a tight squeeze.

Morgana narrowed her eyes at Gwen. "How do you know?"

Gwen sighed. "Because I know you, Morgana." Her tone was firm, but a warm smile made its way across her face. "I know that you're far too courageous to let anything keep you away from the people you love."

In that moment, Morgana's expression suddenly cleared. "Perhaps you're right," she said thoughtfully; and Gwen barely had time to congratulate herself for successfully reigniting her friend's confidence before Morgana was leaning down to kiss her. The brush of lips was soft at first, and Gwen nearly stumbled backwards in surprise. She caught herself with the arm that was still wrapped around Morgana's waist, and the two of them stared at each other with matching expressions of shock. Gwen was suddenly very aware of all the places they were touching, and the scant inches between their faces.

Morgana's lips parted, and Gwen was almost distracted by the thought that she could finally say with certainty that those lips were just as soft as they looked, but she also knew with certainty that Morgana was about to say something foolish about making a mistake or taking liberties, and Gwen really didn't have the time for that.

Instead, she took matters into her own hands. She reached up and pulled Morgana in for another kiss; trying to fill it with all the passion and the love and the yearning she'd been feeling for months. After all the secrets and the lies, it felt good to finally be completely honest.

Morgana gasped gently against her mouth; a sound of surprise that contrasted sharply with the sudden surety Gwen could feel running through her. Her free hand had wound its way into Morgana's beautiful hair, and she thought distantly that it felt just as lovely as it did every night when Gwen brushed it before bed, but this time she was allowed to savor the feeling of soft curls winding around her fingers as she guided Morgana to deepen the kiss.

The two of them might have continued on like that for a very long time, but Morgana jerked herself away with the same enthusiasm she'd just been using to absolutely dissolve Gwen's sense of reality. Gwen was torn between feeling betrayed by the sudden lack of contact and smug about the pretty dusting of pink that had overtaken Morgana's face. Morgana herself was breathing heavily with a wild look in her eyes, and Gwen almost asked her why the hell she'd stopped before she noticed the footsteps of an approaching guard.

The logistics of their situation finally crashed into her, as Gwen realized that she'd just been kissing the king's ward in a public hallway in a castle that certainly wouldn't take kindly to such behavior. Her eyes widened as she took a step back towards the wall, and tried desperately to straighten her skirts and smooth her hair into something that looked a little less like she'd been doing…well, what she'd just been doing.

Maybe Elyan wasn't the only impulsive one in the family after all.

The guard didn't glance twice at Gwen and Morgana as he walked by, which was probably good because Gwen doubted that a couple calming breaths was enough to make either of them look truly respectable again.

Once he was gone, the two of them locked eyes and immediately burst into giggles. Gwen supposed that she should probably be uncomfortable or awkward, but Morgana had always set her at ease. Discomfort was when she denied the pull within herself, and awkwardness was when she imagined that Morgana might not feel the same. Now that she knew her affections were returned, there really wasn't anything left to do but smile like an idiot and hope that Morgana's lip color hadn't rubbed off on her.

"You thought it was a good idea to start that in a hall where anyone could walk by?" Gwen teased.

Morgana raised an eyebrow at her. "I started it?" she gasped with faux indignation. "I believe you were the one who started it, with how sweet and understanding you were."

A blush rose to Gwen's face, and she probably would have responded with something very clever (or perhaps just dissolved into a stammering mess), when she realized that Morgana's chambers had fallen dead silent. She glanced nervously from the door to Morgana. Yelling meant that Merlin and Arthur were fine. Silence meant that one of them was likely unconscious.

A thud echoed through the hallway, like something heavy crashing into solid stone. Without wasting time on hesitation, Morgana's hand was at the door. She was about to pull it open when they both heard something that sounded disturbingly like a groan coming from the other side. Gwen and Morgana froze. Then there was an answering moan, and Morgana's face twisted in an instant from concern to confusion to disbelief.

Gwen sighed in exasperation. She and Merlin could really do with being a little less in-sync.

Meanwhile, Morgana's expression had made its way around to anger. She cursed under her breath. "Really? Now? In my chambers?" she muttered darkly.

"It appears so," Gwen murmured. She placed her hand on top of Morgana's, which was still settled solidly against the door. "Perhaps we don't want to go in there right now."

Morgana scoffed. "Like hell I don't," she said as she yanked the door open.

Fortunately, Gwen was behind Morgana, so she could only hear the indignant spluttering as Arthur and Merlin burst apart; by the time she was fully in the room, the two of them had several feet in between them and matching expressions of frustration and embarrassment painted across their faces. Granted, the disheveled state of their clothing left very little doubt about what they'd just been doing, but Gwen would take small mercies. She'd kissed Merlin herself once, and while she remembered it being rather nice at the time, she was long past those feelings for him and had less than zero interest in seeing his current love life in action.

As Morgana zeroed in on Arthur with a rant about his perfectly nice chambers on the other side of the castle, Gwen couldn't help but snicker at the way Arthur tried to look dignified and princely while smoothing out his hair and tugging down his shirt. Merlin made no such efforts, but he always looked like he'd been dragged ass-first through a blackberry bush, so it was less noticeable.

Leaving the siblings to their argument, Gwen caught Merlin's eye and shot him a thumbs up. His face crinkled into a grin, and he raised his eyebrows knowingly at her and Morgana. I'll tell you later, Gwen mouthed, and Merlin mimed something very intricate in return that was either a dirty joke or simple enthusiasm for them both.

As she waited for Arthur and Morgana to run out of steam, Gwen let herself bask in the moment. Things weren't going to be easy for the four of them—at least not while Uther was on the throne—but ease wasn't the only thing worth striving towards. It might take a very long time, but one day Morgana would learn to trust the support that was waiting for her, Arthur would have his throne, and Merlin would be free to practice his magic openly. Gwen knew she would never be able to fully adjust to living in a world without her father, but with her friends by her side she could remember that this new world was beautiful in its own way. She didn't know quite what the future held for her, but she knew she would have Merlin by her side each day and Morgana waiting in her bed each night, and that would have to be enough. No deception necessary.