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Gwen stood outside the door to Morgana's chambers, fretting. Things had started out innocently enough: she started doing it just on special occasions or when Morgana had woken from particularly horrifying nightmares, and then perhaps once or twice a week, because she couldn't help the thrill she felt every time Morgana smiled at her with perfect joy. At this point though, she thought she might be getting a little carried away – for the past month she’d brought Morgana flowers every day. Morgana never questioned the sudden increase in the frequency of Gwen’s affections, nor did it appear that she might understand their deeper meaning.
Looking down at the small bouquet of wild flowers (pink wild roses this time, which Gwen had diligently dethorned earlier that morning), she wondered if perhaps she should be a little more direct. Gwen shared her opinions freely with Morgana – she knew it was the reason Morgana enjoyed her company more than the other, more subdued, maids – but she did not know if she had the courage to discuss her feelings toward her in such a manner. Giving opinions on dresses, how a certain piece of jewelry looked with a dress, Morgana’s potential suitors (which was easy enough, as she thought none of them worthy), or even the King’s stance on magic seemed exceedingly simple next to the thought of telling Morgana she fancied her.
And so Gwen came to a decision. This must be the last time she brought Morgana flowers, at least with such thoughts behind them. If they did not give her the courage to speak her mind to Morgana this time, then they never would, and Gwen would stand by her as a faithful maid as she was married off to a prince and had loads of babes for Gwen to look after. Besides, she was running out of surfaces to set the flowers and Morgana’s room had begun to resemble her own, private hot house.
Gwen knocked sharply at the door and waited a moment to make sure she wouldn’t give Morgana a shock upon entering. Then she held the flowers behind her back as she opened the door and walked over to the middle of the room where the young woman was tidying up some of her things.
“Good morning, my Lady,” Gwen greeted, and Morgana looked up at her with a warm smile.
“Good morning, Gwen,” Morgana returned happily, and then frowned before going back to fussing about her quarters. Gwen clung to the hope that her look of disappointment was from the lack of flowers.
“Don’t worry over your quarters, my Lady,” she said hastily, hurrying over to pick a shoe off the floor before Morgana had a chance. “I should have been here to clean up sooner. Please forgive me.”
“What are you talking about, Gwen? You have the day off,” Morgana pointed out. As if Gwen would ever want to spend an entire day away from Morgana’s presence. As if Gwen could possibly remember something they’d decided on ages ago when she was so busy fretting over what kind of flower she should pick for Morgana, or what color Morgana might like best, or if Morgana would ever catch on when she so desperately needed her to!
“So you could spend some time with your father before the next tournament begins, remember?” Morgana studied her with a look of deep concern as Gwen straightened up and began to walk backwards slowly to keep the bouquet out of sight. “Gwen, are you feeling well?”
“Oh, um, yes. It must have slipped my mind.” Gwen shuffled her feet anxiously, her eyes cast down at the floor. “I guess I’ll just give you these before I go.”
Gwen held out the small bouquet of pink roses, suddenly deciding it wasn’t worthy of a last ditch effort, but knowing she would feel even more ridiculous walking out of Morgana’s chambers carrying flowers, and not knowing how she’d get out of the room without Morgana noticing them anyways. She tried her best to be confident, but all she could manage was an awkwardly shy almost-smile.
“Gwen! They’re beautiful! I love wild roses,” Morgana exclaimed as she stepped forward to take the flowers; she smiled that bright smile that made Gwen go weak in the knees and Gwen couldn’t help but match it, even if she was still feeling a bit daft. “I’ll get a vase for them.”
The two women smiled nervously at each other when they realized there was not a vase left unfilled in Morgana’s chambers. Morgana giggled like a little girl.
“I’ll go down to the kitchens to grab one before I leave the castle,” Gwen offered, and Morgana nodded. But they remained where they were, unable to let their gaze leave the other woman’s eyes.
Gwen was the first to break, letting her eyes drop and smiling bashfully. This was a mistake, of course, since lowering her gaze allowed her the opportunity to linger over certain parts of Morgana’s body. Morgana’s still flimsy nightclothes-clad body. She felt the heat creep through her body, rising slowly until it darkened her face.
“Are you blushing, Gwen?” Morgana cocked her head to get a better look at Gwen’s face and smiled at her knowingly. Which set her to fidgeting and caused Morgana to giggle at her again.
Then Morgana placed her free hand gently under her maid’s chin and raised her face so that they could look at each other clearly. The touch burnt into Gwen’s skin and she felt it coursing through her body, melting her completely.
“Are you sure you’re alright, Guinevere?” There was concern etched on Morgana’s face and in her voice as she stroked Gwen’s cheek with a soft thumb.
You stupid, stupid little girl, Gwen berated herself. She wanted to do nothing more than close her eyes against Morgana’s loving gaze; the look in her eyes filled Gwen with hope she knew to be false, yet she could not help but cling to it.
"Morgana, if I told you that I had feelings for, well that I loved, I think, someone well above my station, but someone who I think might feel the same way about me, perhaps. Were I to act on these feelings, to take that risk, do you think I would lose my position? I cannot lose this job, my father and I would not be able to survive without it, and yet I think I would be willing to risk everything for this person."
"I think it depends on who you speak of," Morgana suggested, completely unhelpful. Her face was completely serious, though Gwen could swear there was a teasing glint in her eyes. "You don't fancy Arthur, do you?"
Gwen gave a barking laugh at that absurdity, and that seemed to be what she needed to gather all her courage together and take that last step into Morgana. She pressed their lips together tentatively, moving her lips softly against Morgana’s, her arms hanging awkwardly at her sides, unsure of themselves. She became worried at first, that perhaps she was wrong after all, but as the kiss became more forceful, her lips more demanding and her hands venturing up Morgana’s back, Morgana began to respond in kind. The hand that had been tenderly caressing Gwen’s cheek moved its way into her hair, tangling in her curls and holding tightly, and Morgana leaned more fully into the kiss.
She hummed pleasantly into Gwen’s mouth as Gwen’s fingers played at her back, no corset there to interfere with the touch through her thin nightclothes, before she pulled away to catch her breath.
"So you weren't just trying to bring more color into my room then?" Morgana teased, her eyes definitely glinting now.
"Did you really not know?"
"Well, no, I had a feeling. But what if you really were just filling my chambers with flowers because you don't like the way I smell," she said with a mischievous grin. "What if I had kissed you..."
Morgana leaned down to place a kiss on Gwen's lips, gently this time, with their lips barely brushing together.
"What if I had kissed you and the flowers had really been for some other purpose and you had felt you couldn't be around me any more," she said, leaning their brows together and bringing both hands up to cup Gwen's face. She looked imploringly into Gwen's eyes, needing her to understand. "Or worse, you had felt obligated to carry on with the affair even if you did not wish to because you thought you might lose your position if you said no."
"Coward," Gwen said under her breath, grinning slyly.
"Next time you call me a coward, you'll regret it."
"Is that a promise?" she asked, biting her lip to stifle a smile and shifting her eyes innocently.
Morgana let out a particularly unladylike bellowing laugh at the look on Gwen's face and pulled her close, one hand tangled in Gwen's thick curls and one wrapped around her middle as Gwen clung to her shoulders. She kissed her deeply, their bodies pressed firmly together, their lips exploring.
"Oh Gwen. My perfect, beautiful Gwen," she whispered, almost like a prayer, as she placed light kisses all over Gwen's face. She would never tire of the feel of Gwen's skin beneath her lips, and she suddenly wished they had more time and less clothing so she might be able to explore all of her body. "I am beginning to regret my decision to not start this sooner, and also letting you have the day off."
"You could always join us," Gwen suggested as she rested her chin on Morgana's shoulder. "There's no reason for you to be stuck in the castle all day by yourself."
"Best not. I wouldn't be able to keep my hands to myself." She felt Gwen chuckle softly, her breath warm on Morgana's neck as she shifted her head, causing butterflies to erupt in Morgana's stomach. "I can keep myself busy. I think I have things to research in the library."
Gwen lifted her head to raise a questioning eyebrow, which Morgana returned with a look that told her she would find out about it eventually.
Gwen sighed as she slowly unwrapped herself from Morgana's embrace, starting for the door. "You know, Morgana, I think, if we are ever ready to tell anybody, I don’t think my father would mind. Us being together, I mean.”
“Your father is one of the greatest men I have ever known. He seems to care about your happiness more than anything else in the world, just as a father should,” Morgana said fondly. She truly thought Tom an amazing man, to raise the beautiful, spirited woman walking beside her, and she would be honored were he to ever welcome her into his family.
As they stood at the door, Gwen’s fingers clasped around the handle, Morgana bent her head to capture Gwen’s lips one last time. “Have a wonderful day with your father, Guinevere. I’ll see you first thing tomorrow.”
“Good luck in the library,” she replied with a smile as she opened the door, the hand entwined with Morgana’s lingering until the last possible moment as she walked away. Morgana stayed leaning against her doorframe as she watched Gwen walk down the corridor, one hand clutching the necklace that dangled on her chest and the other wrapped comfortingly around her stomach. Then Gwen turned to smile again as she walked around the corner and out of sight.
Finally closing herself back in her room to finish getting ready for the day, Morgana realized that she could not stop smiling like the lovesick fool she was. She simply had to hope that she didn’t come across Arthur, which would not be a difficult task if she stayed in the library.
***
Gwen woke the next morning as the first bit of sun peeked through her window and found the second pillow on her small bed covered in primroses. She smiled and giggled happily as she fingered the soft petals, her body filling with warmth as if the entire room were flooded in the late June sun.
It was when she stepped out of bed, eager to change so that she could get back to the castle, that she noticed a slip of parchment beneath all the flowers. It read simply: “I cannot live without you. – xx”