Title: Comfort

Show: Merlin

Characters/Pairings: Gwen/Arthur, Merlin/Morgana friendship (or more, if you want to see it)

Rating: PG

Word Count: 2341

Spoilers: For some S2 episodes, also for some 2x08 (from episode descriptions, promo photos, the trailer, and lots of speculation & wishful thinking)

Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin or its characters. If I did… Arthur and Gwen would be in each other's arms every other episode. (Cuz I'm greedy like that)

Summary: Gwen is there when Arthur needs her most. 2x08 speculation fic.

A/N: I wanted to get this fic out before the episode airs. I had this vague idea in my head since the first trailer for S2 Merlin came out & it's grown more substantial with the more info we've gotten. LOTS of wishful thinking for A&G interaction.

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There was an insistent knock on the door, after which it opened before it could be answered. Gwen looked up, surprised to see it was Merlin who had knocked so forcefully.

"Gwen?"

"Yes, Merlin?"

He quickly nodded over Gwen's shoulder toward Morgana. "Sorry, my lady. – Gwen, I could really use your help with something. – If that's alright, my lady."

"Of course," Morgana answered. "With what?"

"Uh…" Merlin started. He eyed Gwen hesitantly. "With Arthur."

Gwen swallowed, glad that Morgana couldn't see her expression.

A few weeks ago, she had thought things were finally fine between them since she'd been kidnapped. Not free from awkwardness, but not bad either. However that had been before he had completely brushed her off just a half-hour ago. And that had hurt, making her wonder why he would act that way toward her.

Merlin stepped closer and lowered his voice, although Gwen suspected that Morgana might still be able to hear. "Gwen, he needs you. I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important."

Gwen looked Merlin in the eyes at this, noting his expression. "Uh, alright."

---

"So what's so important that you need my help with, Merlin?" she asked as they walked to Arthur's room.

"Arthur's… well, he's in a state."

"What do you mean he's in a state?"

"Well… he wouldn't let me take of his armor. He wouldn't sit down. He wouldn't eat. Eventually he just yelled at me to get out. Last I saw, he was just standing and looking out his window."

"So why is he in a state?"

"Um, well…." Merlin slowed his steps as they reached Arthur's door. "If Arthur decides to tell you, then okay. But I'm not comfortable telling you."

Before Gwen could question him further, Merlin had opened the door and led her through, shutting it behind her.

Just as Merlin said, Arthur was leaning against the wall with one shoulder and staring out the window.

"I told you to go away, Merlin." His voice was rough and angry.

Gwen wet her lips while she gathered her courage to be around him while he was acting this way. "Merlin's not here, my lord."

Arthur didn't turn, but paused at her answer before softly replying, "Oh."

Something about the situation, about Arthur, was beginning to seem entirely off to Gwen. So she carefully stepped toward him and reached out to touch his arm. "Sire?"

Arthur turned a fraction toward her, showing his face to her. "Oh, Arthur" she whispered, seeing his red eyes. She instinctively wanted to reach out and touch his face, smooth his fringe and wipe his cheeks, to ask him what was wrong, or to fling herself around him like she's done so often with Morgana after one of her nightmares.

But instead she pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth, resisting these instincts. Unable to look in his eyes anymore or else she would want to give in to those intimacies that are only shared by friends or lovers – both of which Arthur had made it clear he did not want her to be – and reached for his right arm.

Arthur turned fully toward her as she worked on the buckles of his armor there. They both remained in silence as she undid the rest of his armor's fastenings and pulled it over his head in one piece. Arthur let her, his body oddly relaxed and pliant as she worked. She then took off his chainmail and padding until he was just in his lightweight undershirt. The entire time, she sensed him watching her, his expression as vacant as when she had first come in his room.

Merlin was right; Arthur was in a state. And Gwen was afraid of what could have happened that would have made him this way.

"Are you hungry?" she tried, motioning towards the plate and goblet Merlin must have brought earlier on the table.

Arthur just shook his head.

Not knowing what else to do, Gwen led him by the elbow to the edge of his bed and guided him to lie down. Perhaps it was the best thing to do.

As she turned and began to walk back for the door, she heard Arthur's voice.

"Guinevere?" he asked softly. She turned to see his hand reached out toward her and his expression vulnerable. "Stay."

And although it was more of a plea than an order, Gwen knew she couldn't leave him.

---

"Why does Arthur need Gwen?" Morgana asked suddenly.

Merlin looked up from folding Morgana's dresses – something which Gwen did much more neatly. But he had come back to politely offer Morgana his services while Gwen was occupied and he would probably do a better job of it than if Morgana had asked him to brush her hair or re-sew a loose button.

"Uh, well… he doesn't need her. Or her specifically. I mean, Gwen's just really good at things, whereas I am not. I mean, I can't even properly fold a dress. So it's really not that hard to believe that Arthur would need a better servant some of the time, now is it? I mean, Gwen somehow finds the time to bring you fresh flowers along with all her chores, while I'm always dropping Arthur's armor all over the place and tripping over my feet and losing track of where I put things. Sometimes I don't know why he puts up with me, truth is. Because, really –"

"Merlin," she warned lightly. "Stop avoiding the question."

"Well… Arthur's in a bit of a state, see?"

"What kind of state?"

"Well, he was really quiet at first, and then really angry, and I think he's back to being eerily quiet. And on top of it all, I think he's really confused over everything."

"And what happened to make him like that?"

Merlin turned solemn. "I don't think I should tell you. It's Arthur's business. If he wants people to know, then he'll tell them himself. Just trust me when I tell you that it's… major."

"Does it have to do with Gwen?"

"No."

Morgana must have sensed that he was being perfectly truthful this time. "But… is there? Something? With Gwen?"

Merlin pursed his lips for a moment. "I don't think I should tell you that either. It's their business."

Morgana sighed, understanding but still a little annoyed. Even though he had practically answered the question for her. "I didn't think about it at the time, but when I went to Arthur to talk him into going after Gwen, he needed no persuasion. For the first time I can remember, he didn't hesitate and try to respect his father's decision; he wasn't even in turmoil over what to do. He was already packing, his mind fully made up. I took it as him finally getting out from under Uther's thumb. But it was more than that, wasn't it?"

When Merlin didn't speak for several moments, she answered for him. "But you don't think you should tell me."

"Yeah," he said lamely.

And it's not like he didn't want to tell her. He'd been wanting to tell her – or just plain someone – about so many things for ages.

He wouldn't mind telling her about how Arthur probably loved Gwen and that she might even love him back. About how Arthur and Gwen's situation was almost too painful to think about sometimes, because he saw how both his friends seemed to be suffering from it.

It would also be a relief to get the current matter off his chest and tell her about the events since last night. How Uther had strictly forbidden Arthur from speaking with the then-mysterious (and still-plenty-mysterious) Morgause, yet Arthur had been dead-set on sneaking out anyway due to her vague mention of his mother. Then the events at Igraine's grave, which Merlin still had trouble just explaining to himself. And, of course, the unbelievable truth, which Merlin could understand why Arthur was having such a hard time dealing with. After which, Arthur had sped off in a rage back to the castle ahead of Merlin, only to be found with his sword to the king's throat. It was only after Merlin dragged Arthur from his father (with some considerable help from Sir Leon) and tried to calm him down that Arthur seemed to regain any sense. And if by sense, Merlin meant Arthur losing all emotivity and dropping his sword on the stone floor with a loud echoing clatter to retreat to his quarters.

Merlin didn't realize how long he'd been staring back at her until Morgana finally spoke up again.

"You're a lot more competent than you let people think, aren't you, Merlin?"

Merlin looked her in the eyes, knowing that they were both thinking about when he helped her after she discovered she had magic. Reminding him of yet another thing he wanted to confess to her.

Unable to tell her the truth for what felt like the thousandth time, he shrugged noncommittally as her dress fluttered through his clumsy fingers and onto the floor.

---

The few times that Gwen had allowed herself to imagine what lying with the prince in his bed would be like, they had never been like this.

She would never have thought of a circumstance where Arthur would seem so… broken. So in need of comfort that he would lay in her arms, tucked against her left side, his head resting on her shoulder and his arm wrapped around her middle.

He just lay there in silence, his body still and eyes closed as she felt his tears fall on her skin and pool in the hallow of her collarbone.

The fingers of her right hand seemed to go to his head on their own accord, brushing the hair by his temple in a soothing way. Her other hand had already curled up to slowly rub his back.

At some point she could tell from his breathing that he had fallen asleep. Every once and awhile the fingers of his left hand would twitch where they were gently wrapped around her right side so that she would wonder if he were waking. But then he would still and she would untense.

Eventually she relaxed enough to doze.

---

Arthur must be dreaming again – but one of those pleasant dreams that feel like such a relief after a series of nightmares.

And he was wrapped around something warm – or perhaps it was wrapped around him, since he felt that same warmth on his left cheek and slithered around his back. But whatever it was, it felt comforting in a way he'd never known before.

So Arthur just exhaled lowly, nestling his cheek against the smoothness he found underneath him, and tightened his left arm's grip a little around that comforting entity.

Then he realized that the entity he was wrapped around was moving. Just slightly. Up and down just enough to be noticeable in a rhythm similar to his own breathing.

He shifted a bit to open his eyes, finding himself next to a woman – who in turn was stirring from her own sleep and looking back at him.

"Guinevere" he said, just now snapping awake to realize this wasn't some dream and remember how they'd come to be this way – along with the events of the last twenty-four hours that had led up to it.

So he sat up, the air between them suddenly uncomfortable.

"Perhaps I should go, my lord, if you don't require anything more," she said nervously, getting off the other side of the bed.

Arthur swung his legs over his side of the mattress as she walked around it to exit through the main room of his chambers. "Guinevere, wait."

She stopped, turning to stand in front of him. "Yes, sire?"

He sighed, knowing he shouldn't keep her there, no matter how much he wanted to.

"Thank you," he said softly. "For being here."

Gwen bowed her head, her tone formal. "You should thank Merlin. He asked me to come."

Arthur frowned. Was she saying that she only came because Merlin had asked her, and it had nothing to do with him?

Or what if it was a lie and she was trying to hurt him the way he had once hurt her? When he told her a similar excuse after coming to rescue her?

Or if maybe, just maybe, she was only giving Merlin the recognition he deserved for what was obviously one of his better ideas.

He cleared his throat and inclined his head. "Well, I'm glad you were here, regardless."

She nodded, wetting her lips for a moment as she seemed to decide whether to say something or not.

"Sire…"

"Yes, Guinevere?"

"What… what happened?"

Arthur felt his eyebrows knit together and looked down at his hands. "I…" he began, unable to finish.

She stepped closer, her tone gentle.

"You can tell me, Arthur. You can tell me anything."

And he looked up, studying her. It was some relief that her attempts to distance herself from him were not from lack of caring. And if there was one person he could allow himself to share this with, it felt like Guinevere was that person. Maybe it would be good to tell someone. So he gestured to the spot on the bed beside him. "Sit down."

She sat, closer to him than he might have expected, but her proximity was reassuring. It felt more personal, more intimate. And that helped him feel comfortable to begin talking.

It was hard, he'd admit, retelling what had happened, what he'd found out. His voice grew uneven several times, but at least his tears seemed to have been exhausted, the last remnants of them still stained on the skin of her shoulder.

At some point in his story, when his throat had grown particularly tight, he felt her hand creep comfortingly into his. He squeezed it, once again glad she was there for him.

He felt like she would always be there for him, and that was a great comfort.