I wish you would
gwen+morgana; pg; ~500 w.
written for the prompt: It's not over, not truly.
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When Morgana appears in Camelot, cloaked and hidden in Gwen's chambers, Arthur is far into another country and Merlin is with him. Anyone would wonder how Morgana managed to elude the guards and get within the walls but Gwen knows better.
"My La-Morgana. What are you doing here?"
"Guinevere," she says, solemn, to the point. "I left something behind. I'm here for that and nothing else. You can choose to cooperate or not. It's up to you."
It has been nearly a year and they are no longer the people they once were, no longer the girls who shared blankets and shook twigs out of each other's hair. It's not what it was and Gwen has to remind herself lest she start feeling again. She chose to stay and Morgana chose to go, to become an entirely different realm, a place Gwen can't touch and a person she doesn't know.
Gwen swallows hard. She knows she should call the guards, should say something and try and stop her. Morgana left her rights to everything here when she left this place and they both know this.
(And even so, a part of her is torn. No, all of her is torn. I left something behind, Morgana said. Gwen doesn't dare hope anymore.)
"Right," Gwen breathes, "be quick."
She tells herself it's because she doesn't want any unnecessary trouble. The knights are either with Arthur or on patrol at the borders and the irony isn't lost on her. At this rate, the guards would probably be the ones hurt. Without Merlin, Gaius would have too much on his hands.
Gwen accompanies her to the library and Morgana is quick, efficient, putting Goeffrey to sleep with a snap of her fingers.
It's a book, small and leather-bound. Once she finds it, she clutches it close to her chest and hisses words that Gwen does not understand. She pauses for just a moment and there's a look in her eyes, something hidden and reluctant but underneath that, forlorn. Gwen only sees it because she knows what it looks like, has known it all her life and chased it away with hushed words and warm arms.
"You know," says Morgana, "you can still-"
I miss you too but- "No, I'm sorry," and then, "you know that you can come back. Arthur would-"
"I can't," she says, cold, flat. Don't you ever want to, Gwen wants to ask. Much of the time, I want you to. All of the time, really.
As if she's read her mind, Morgana smiles. It's a changed smile, lacking the warmth and familiarity Gwen had curled up into once. Still, there is some sincerity in there, buried deep somewhere. "But thank you all the same," she whispers, just before vanishing in a whirlwind, "you know I-we always-"
"I know, Morgana. I know. Just hurry up and go."
She's sure this probably counts as treason, aiding and abetting the enemy in her escape. Gwen shakes her head and tries to fight off the smile.
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