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Gwen still smelled of smoke.
It clung to her hair, her dress. Her skin felt dirty, as though she were coated in ashes.
Lancelot’s ashes.
Outside, in the courtyard, the pyre still burned. She hadn’t been able to stay until the embers had died out, but she had stayed after the funeral. Outside, she hadn’t cared who saw her cry, but now she felt the self-consciousness she’d been plagued with for over a year return. They all watched her, curious and scathing of this girl who’d captured the eye of the Prince.
Gwen stopped outside a door in an abandoned corridor. Familiarity jolted through her, and she realised in her distraction she’d gone to the one place she knew no one would bother her.
Morgana’s chambers were almost the same as they’d been a year ago. No one, especially not Arthur, had had the heart to clear the rooms. Even her jewelry remained, the gold and jewels sitting untouched in boxes that Gwen had opened hundreds of times. Gwen wondered if servants hadn’t stolen any because they feared them to be cursed.
Morgana’s bed was unmade, her covers brushed aside from when Morgana had last slept there, on the night Arthur and his knights had stood as one at the Round Table. Almost unconsciously, Gwen made the bed, fixing the blankets with practiced ease. Then she sat down carefully, as if any sudden movements would wake the ghosts that seemed to fill this place. Memories of the hours Gwen had spent here: dressing Morgana; watching over her sleep; calming her when she was scared. Being her friend.
Gwen’s heart ached, and she could no longer stop the tears that flowed from her eyes of their own accord, followed by ugly sobs that no lady of the court should ever make.
Was she doomed to lose everyone she loved?
In the midst of her crying, Morgana’s door opened, and Merlin stepped in. He was as unsurprised to see Gwen there as she was him. She accepted his wordless hug, clinging to his shirt as her sobbing continued. Merlin was a great comforter, Gwen had learned after her father died. He knew how to bring about a smile with a teasing remark, but also knew when he should just be a shoulder to cry on; there to hold Gwen as she fell apart, and help to put her back together.
“Lance?” Merlin guessed once Gwen’s tears slowed.
She nodded, then shook her head. “It’s my fault.”
“It’s not your fault,” Merlin said.
“I asked him to protect Arthur.” Gwen squeezed her eyes shut at the memory. It had been the last time she’d seen Lancelot alive. “He promised he’d protect him with his life.”
Merlin flinched. Gwen looked up at his face, but his expression smoothed to a gentle smile too fast for her to tell what was going on in his mind. “Doesn’t mean it was your fault. Lance would have done the same for anybody.”
There was another flicker, of — something. Guilt? Gwen filed it away with the long list of mysteries that were Merlin.
“I barely even knew him,” Gwen whispered, afraid of being overheard even in this place of emptiness and ghosts. “I wish...” She trailed off.
“I thought you two were close...” Merlin said, biting his lips so he didn’t say what he truly meant to say.
“You thought I loved him,” Gwen finished for him.
“You love Arthur.” Merlin said it automatically, the words well-rehearsed. Gwen had said them to herself in much the same way.
Gwen meant to laugh, but it came out half a sob, odd and choking.
“I do,” she said with full sincerity. “But I would have chosen Lance, before him.” And before him, I would have chosen Morgana. Gwen looked up at Merlin, who looked confused, but not surprised. I would have chosen you before Arthur, once.
“If you loved Lance, why didn’t you chose him?” Merlin asked.
“Because he chose for me,” Gwen said, remembering standing in this very room and watching the knight-turned-outcast ride from Camelot, leaving her without a single goodbye. And then a year later, he’d abandoned her. Because Arthur had saved her, and Lance had took it upon himself to fix Gwen’s predicament.
She’d only kissed Arthur once, back then. She’d felt trapped, in love with a man who wanted her, but wouldn’t have her. And she couldn’t say no to Arthur, who was oblivious to all this; in love, so kind and sweet.
“Lancelot never asked me what I wanted. He just assumed I couldn’t love him before a prince.”
Merlin nodded. “Before Lance...” He cut himself off. “On our way to the Isle of the Blessed, I asked him about you. He said so long as you were happy, he would be.”
“He just didn’t realise I could have been happier with him,” Gwen said, with more bitterness in her tone than she intended.
“Will you be happy with Arthur?” Merlin asked.
Gwen realised that no one had asked her that question. Certainly not Lance. Elyan had tried to interrogate her before she’d chided him for trying to make choices for her, when he certainly hadn’t been there to protect her before.
Merlin had been so excited when Arthur had first shown interest in Gwen. She remembered with a small smile his enthusiasm in helping Arthur court her — and the humour of seeing them stumble along together, trying to impress her.
It was a testament to how big Merlin’s heart was, that he’d go so far to see his best friend happy. Gwen knew how it hurt him, to see Arthur so in love with her and not him.
They’d never talked about it, but it was just something Gwen knew, just as Merlin knew about Gwen’s feelings towards Morgana. He’d known where to find her, after all.
“Do you mean with Arthur as his wife, or as his friend?” Gwen asked.
“Which do you want?”
“I...” I don’t know, I have no idea, and every time I try and figure it out I get confused and scared and end up coming back to this place.
Merlin saw the distress in Gwen’s face and pulled her into his arms. She held onto him tightly, trying not to think of anything but the smell of herbs on Merlin’s shirt, and the brush of his neckerchief on her cheek.
“It doesn’t matter what you choose,” Merlin said softly. “Or when. I’ll support you.”
Merlin would always support her, Gwen thought. He’d always been there; constant, comforting. Even if Gwen married the man he loved, or pined away for a sorceress who wanted them all dead, he’d still be by her side.
Gwen wondered what he’d say if she said she chose him.