Title: My Little Corner Of The World
Author: silverkitsune1
Fandom: Merlin
Pairing/characters: Gwen/Morgana
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: All
Prompt: Any fandom, any character, wing!fic. Wings as a metaphor for an LGBT experience.
Summary: Gwen knows there are lines that can never really be crossed.
Warnings: (if any) None
Author's Notes: (if any) Written for the livejournal lgbtfest.
Thank you to lj user sam_can_do it my long-suffering friend, very wise and wonderful voice of reason beta, and lj user gallifreycalls who did me a huge favor when she performed a last minute beta.
There was dirt underneath Morgana's fingernails and mud streaked across her cheek. Gwen sat facing her on the large bed with her legs crossed, close enough that their knees touched. Holding the other girl's hand in her own, she gently scraped the grime out from under her nails with a small wooden pick.
"You'll need a bath before tonight's meal," Gwen said with a shake of her head. "You're filthy."
"We should share one then," Morgana replied airily. "For you are equally so."
Gwen did not glance up from her work, but she smiled at Morgana's teasing tone.
Sword fighting had left them tired with sweat drying across their brows and what felt like half the practice yard covering their bodies. Gwen doubted that even the many flowers, all bursting with color and perfume, that decorated Morgana's room could hide their stench. However, the exhaustion that came, not only from helping Morgana practice, but in keeping the activities a secret left Gwen oddly peaceful.
"There we go," Gwen said as the last bit was scraped away. "Done."
She was not surprised when Morgana trapped her hand in her own and lifted it to her lips, but her eyes darted toward the door when Morgana took the pick and whipped it clean across her tunic before starting on Gwen's nails. What a sight they would be, a lady cleaning her maid's nails. What a scandal if anyone saw.
"The door is locked," Morgana reassured.
She lifted Gwen's hand higher and then squinted at the fingers that required her attention. Heat trickled down Gwen's cheeks, winding around her neck before washing through her breasts and heart.
"I know," Gwen responded. "There are just so many strangers in the castle lately. Makes me jumpy."
Morgana frowned. "Yes, there are so many lately, aren't there?"
"There's hardly a room that hasn't been cleaned and fitted," Gwen said. "The staff has hardly had a moment's peace."
Morgana paused. "Even you?"
Gwen smiled, meeting the other girl's gaze. "I find my peace with you."
Finished with the left hand, Morgana laid it atop Gwen's mud spotted knee and lifted her right. Her thumb rubbed small circles around Gwen's knuckles.
"Have you noticed a pattern forming among our guests?" Morgana asked.
A knot formed in Gwen's stomach. The entire castle had noticed that all new parties contained at least one available, well-bred lord.
Morgana pushed on, not waiting for an answer. "I believe Uther means for me to be married before the summer's end."
The words that Gwen had run through her head since she was old enough to understand that Morgana would someday leave slid past her tongue with practiced ease. "We always knew-"
Gwen was surprised when Morgana took both of her hands into her own and closed the space between them until their foreheads met. "And I have always known that what is expected of me is not what I want."
The summer day was hot and still, but the stench of both animal and human wafted in through the thin bedroom windows. The castle smells ran together making it so that one breath brought the smell of wildflowers to Gwen's nose, only to be followed by the stench from the city.
"What do you want, Morgana?" Gwen asked.
"To be in a place where there is no fear waiting on the other side of a locked door, and no nightmares tumbling about inside my head," Morgana answered softly. "To be with you."
Morgana's grip on Gwen's hands tightened. Her palms were wet, and Gwen saw panic flash through the other girl's blue eyes.
"What do you want, Gwen?"
There were lines that maid and mistress did not cross. Not in Camelot, not in any court, but Gwen was brave here with no one but Morgana. She pressed her mouth against the shell of the other girl's ear.
"If it wasn't impossible," Gwen said softly. "I would make it so that our futures did not run just parallel to one another, that our lives weren't doomed to fates where we were forever watching, but never touching. I would make it so that we would be as we are right now, crisscrossed and braided together. That is what I want."
****************
For all of Uther's flaws and prejudices, he had chosen a suitor that even Gwen, who felt as though the entire winter frost was trapped in her heart, could see was a good match for Morgana. He was older than Morgana by a few summers, but not a decade. He was good looking, and he was in possession of both a sizable fortune, and a family name that had always been loyal to Uther.
Gwen watched his hand circle around the curve of Morgana's hip. As the couple walked onto the floor Gwen could see the line of Morgana's lips as she held what Gwen knew was a firestorm of words captive against the roof of her mouth.
Gwen could feel Merlin's eyes burrowing into her back, and when she turned he caught her eye. The pity hit Gwen like a wind blast, and as the minstrel's first note began the next dance Gwen slipped away.
She did not run, and was proud of her restraint. Her feet moved no faster or slower than they might have on any other night when she was on an errand through the twisting halls of the castle.
She was surprised when her feet took her outside, but she allowed them; she had no place in mind, but she knew that she wanted to be as far away from the main hall as she could.
She ended up in the practice yards, her footsteps leaving a trail behind as she kicked up dust. She stood in the center of the arena tipping her head back to watch the moonless star-speckled sky. There was rain rolling in, and heat lightning danced its way through the murky black clouds. The wind that brushed past her face was warm.
"There aren't many who would come outside now with that storm on its way."
Gwen didn't bother to find the voice in the darkness. She was in no mood for conversation, and hoped this stranger would make their comments and move along.
She started when a firm hand took her by the chin, and pulled her head down to meet a pair of very blue eyes.
The woman before her was old, but had the lingering look of one who had been a beauty in their youth. She was not a lady, but Gwen had never seen her behind the cutting board in the kitchens or scrubbing tunics in the laundry. Gwen found it hard to imagine this woman anywhere indoors where walls would close her in. Even the practice court seemed too small to hold her.
For the second time that night, a pair of eyes watched Gwen, but there was no pity or compassion in them. Interest and delight were reflected back at her, but Gwen felt much like a mouse being held in the paws of a giant cat. She was surprised to find that she'd wrapped her hands around the other woman's wrist. With a smile that flashed across her face like quicksilver, the stranger released her.
"What do you want?" Gwen asked.
The woman stepped back. She was barefoot with her toes wiggling through the dry sand and dirt.
"A brave new world," the woman responded.
Gwen wondered if the woman was touched in the head.
"My name is Nimue," the old woman continued. "You're Guinevere. I've seen you many times before."
A wind pregnant with the warnings of the coming rain blew through the courtyard, and the flags snapped smartly against the gust. Gwen caught sight of lightning in the distance, not close enough yet to hear the thunder that would accompany it, but showing off.
"There's an engagement celebration going on in the main hall," Nimue said casually. "Such pretty children they'll have."
Gwen turned to leave. "Good-night."
"It must be upsetting to see him gifted with that whom you love the most."
Gwen didn't turn to face the woman. She felt weariness settle over her shoulders like a wet shawl. "I'd like to be left alone, please."
"Have you ever dreamed about it?" Nimue asked casually. "You and your lady presented to such a joyful crowd together-"
"You're talking nonsense, and I've no head for riddles right now." Gwen took a step forward, but a hand shot out and grabbed her arm. There was strength underneath the wrinkled skin.
"I know what you want Guinevere," "Nimue said calmly. "I know you don't think you can have it."
Gwen was not an angry woman. She was often worried or anxious, happy or disturbed, but hardly ever angry, and so she was surprised when rage rushed through her.
"I know I can't have it," Gwen snapped. "In Camelot, people whose bed partners go against the common grain are no safer from the gallows or the pyre than those who hum with magic. And even if such a thing were allowed I am a maid, and she is the king's ward. There is more than one line standing between us, and I don't have the power to cross any of them."
"You think that, but Guinevere, you're more important than you've been lead to believe," Nimue said. "When you were born, you came with strings wrapped around your fingers. You may not be able to see them, but a hand wave from you can cause the world to shift."
"The ones with that kind of power are dancing in the great hall or dead," Gwen responded. "You've come to the wrong place."
"No," Nimue said with a smile that did nothing but make Gwen angrier. "I'm right where I want to be. I'm a sorceress, Guinevere."
"Let go," Gwen demanded.
"I'm one of the many Uther has been chasing for decades. I had to do quite a bit of magic to get here. I've traveled through time, more than once, to reach the places where the world is ripe for shaping, and I sacrificed so much to be here speaking with you."
"Please go away!" Gwen cried and jerked out of the old woman's hold.
"Magic is a balancing act, and in order to have one thing you have to give up another," Nimue continued. "I'd like you to help me change history by giving up one future, the one I have lived through already, for another."
Gwen pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes.
"Here." Nimue pulled one of Gwen's hands away from her face and pried open the fingers.
A woven band as long as Gwen's hand, but no thicker than if she'd pressed her ring and middle finger together was laid across Gwen's calloused palm. It was hard to make out the colors in the darkness, but a bolt of lightning let her see traces of red, green, purple, gold and orange. The design was complex, and it gave Gwen a headache just to think of how the pattern had been woven.
"I can't do magic," Gwen whispered. "I won't do magic."
"All you have to do is unravel the threads, and pick the pattern apart," Nimue said.
"What will it do?" Gwen asked.
"I've told you. It will change the future."
Gwen ran a finger through the center, trying to follow the trail of one thread in particular, but she quickly got lost. "No, I mean what exactly will it do?"
Nimue kissed her on the forehead, and to Gwen it felt like a burn.
"I don't know. However, if it makes the choice any easier I've seen the way the story as it stands right now ends for you and the Lady Morgana. It's not very pretty."
************
Morgana was not in her chambers when Gwen entered sweat-soaked from the heat, her head swimming with the image of Nimue's retreating back. The band was in her apron pocket, and she pressed her hand against the fold of cloth as she made her way around Morgana's room straightening an already tidy area.
She felt bold when she took a seat on Morgana's bed.
At first she sat with her feet firmly on the floor, able to stand up and move quickly if necessary. Then she lifted them away from the stones, and scooted back, drawing her legs to her chest until she sat in the center.
It took the work of her teeth, and her nails, but after one knot came undone, the rest of the pattern followed until Gwen was left with a mess of threads spilling over her legs.
************
The storm had come and gone, the thunder moving to farther reaches of the land, and leaving only a warm if harsh summer rain falling when Morgana finally returned.
"He says," she choked, her eyes focused on the small slit of a window, meant for protection against the arrows of invaders. The sill was drenched, and the floor quickly becoming so. "He says you can come with us. That he's heard of how close I am to you, and that it is valuable for a lady to have a trustworthy maid. He says it will make my transition into my new life easier if I have a familiar face. He says I am beautiful, and speaking with me has made him believe we could love one another. He says I will find enjoyment in his family's library, and that my knowledge of a sword and bow would be an asset to his household since it is near the border. He says such nice things."
Morgana was a girl who angered. Her temper was legendary, and part of the privilege that her position afforded her allowed her to show it so Gwen was not surprised when Morgana turned and slammed her hand, open faced against the door. "And with every nice word he had I could only think of a hundred poisonous ones to answer, but Uther was there and so I said nothing."
Gwen beckoned her closer. "Sit with me."
Morgana's steps were slow and precise, each foot landing along one of the lines that connected the stones. When she reached Gwen, she framed the other girl's face in her hands, and Gwen could feel her heart pounding loudly in her ears. She felt as though the world were stretching out around her in order to fit all of the new intense feelings that were rushing through her blood.
When Morgana kissed her, Gwen wrapped an arm around her body and pulled her closer. Nipping Gwen's lower lip, Morgana slid her hands across Gwen's hip bones while Gwen struggled to unlace the other girl's gown. She ran her fingers up Morgana's spine, and her hands fumbled across the expanse of Morgana's shoulders for the knots that she couldn't see.
"I would break my world for you," Morgana whispered, nuzzling Gwen's ear. "My whole world."
************
There was smoke in her dreams. Gwen assumed there was fire as well licking at the soles of her feet like a cat and digging its claws into the material of her dress, but she couldn't see the flames. There was only the smoke stuffing itself up her nostrils and forcing its way down her throat.
There were others; voices that jump over the thick black wall surrounding her, but not a friendly note anywhere in the chatter. Even as she screamed she knew that none of them would move to help her.
************
Gwen woke without any feeling in her left arm, and ached in spots she'd never thought it possible to ache before. She'd slept with her face buried in the pillow, and her hand trapped underneath Morgana's outstretched arm. As the other girl slept on, Gwen stirred to life.
The morning air was humid and thick, still heavy with moisture from the night's storm. Carefully, Gwen untangled herself from Morgana's hold. She had chores that needed tending, and her own body to wash. If she didn't leave soon someone would come looking for her, and that could only lead to trouble. Her left arm was like a lead weight, and she quickly kneaded the muscle with her right hand, hissing softly when pins and needles flooded through her blood. When both arms were more or less functional, Gwen pushed herself to her knees, and then sat up only to promptly tip backward when an unfamiliar weight destroyed her balance.
She hit the sheets, and yelped in surprise when whatever she landed on made pain shoot through her shoulder blades and lower back. Scrambling back into a sitting position she grabbed onto Morgana's leg underneath the covers which earned her a sleepy murmur.
"Gwen?"
"I'm-yes, yes. I'm here."
Gwen could see something out of the corner of her eye, and when she turned her head she could only stare at the line of feathers that stretched out from her body.
It would have been shock enough had she been the only one with them.
Carefully, she reached behind her and found that the feathers were attached to a much more solid appendage that seemed to flow into the skin of her back and shoulders, as though it had always been there.
"Must you leave?" Morgana mumbled.
Like Gwen, Morgana had slept on her stomach, the blankets pooling around her hips. She pushed herself onto her elbows, and locks of black hair, greasy from their activities and the morning's weather clung to her face. Wings, like Gwen's, arched off of her body.
Before Morgana could turn around to see either Gwen or notice her own change, Gwen leaned in and kissed her quickly. She wondered if this would be the last one they ever shared.
"I'm sure you're regretting that decision," Morgana said with a sleepy smile and closed eyes. "A kiss so early in the morning…"
"Morgana," Gwen interrupted. "I've done something."
"I dare say we've both done something," Morgana giggled.
"No," Gwen pushed. "I-I'd like you- wait, just wait-"
Gwen placed her hand over Morgana's eyes.
"I need you to close your eyes," Gwen said. "And I'd like you to keep them closed, until I say."
"Are we playing a game?" Morgana asked, a smile blossoming across her face.
"My lady," Gwen said. "Please."
The smile fell from Morgana's lips, but she nodded. She allowed Gwen to pull her into a sitting position. Gwen held Morgana by her wrists. She guided them along her back, carefully brushing them along the thin bones and feathers that now decorated her.
"You can open them now," Gwen whispered.
"What?" Morgana gapped.
"As I said," Gwen repeated. "I've done something."
************
The wings were huge. When Gwen stepped off the bed and into the center of the room she could stretch them from one wall to the other, each tip whispering against the stones. They were brown, white and rusty red. When Gwen stood they reached from the middle of her calf, and stretched up to arch above her head.
Morgana's were pale-blue, and grey, and just as large.
Flapping them, Gwen created a small dust storm in Morgana's room, and the wind caused goose bumps to run along her naked skin.
"It feels a bit like waving my arm," she said. "I can feel the pull of the muscle, and the bone too, but it's a very, very strange sensation."
Gwen was surprised she could say anything at all. She'd felt like every word she owned had been used up in retelling the night's events to Morgana, and she couldn't begin to imagine where these extra words had been born.
"Do they hurt you?" Morgana asked. She had her thumb nail permanently placed between her teeth; gnawing at it. Morgana's last governess had gloated that she'd broken her most difficult charge of the unladylike habit, but Morgana was like that, able to keep bits of herself hidden and safe for later use.
"They're a bit stiff," Gwen admitted. "But no, they don't hurt me. Why? Are they hurting you?"
"No," Morgana said. She let her hand fall away from her mouth. Her bare feet made no sound as she moved across the stones. "They're dangerous though. We should figure out a way to get them off. I'll call for Gaius. He'll help."
Gwen shook her head, her curls falling into her face, and across her eyes. "I don't want mine to come off."
Morgana's hand closed around Gwen's own. "Gwen, these reek of magic, and they draw attention to us. Attention is not something we need."
Morgana's eyes glanced from Gwen's face to the locked door, and then back. Gwen felt the world shrink around her. It was a feeling she'd known for years as she stumbled along the cramped halls of the castle.
Gwen flapped her wings again. "The clouds are thick right now. That along with the early morning's mist would cover us well enough. If we go high, no one will notice what's right above them."
Morgana's grip on Gwen's hand didn't falter, but disbelief washed through her eyes. "You can't possibly think of trying to fly!"
Gwen laughed. "Why not?"
"You don't know how! You can't jump off the tallest tower and expect to soar like a falcon!" Morgana snapped. "We're all born with legs, but we still have to learn to walk."
"What's there to flying that you don't think I'd know?" Gwen asked.
"You don't know how to navigate the winds," Morgana started.
"I have ridden the flights and fancies of a traitorous noble court, a sharp-eyed kitchen staff, more jealous maids than you ever need know about, a very quick-tempered prince, a mercurial king and my own feelings for years, and I have not yet been blown off course," Gwen countered.
"You won't be strong enough to keep yourself in the air," Morgana pushed.
"You're the one who's been breaking my back in a practice ring for months so that I can learn to hold a sword, something I do along with all of my regular chores," Gwen answered.
"We'll crash," Morgana said, her eyes bright. "We'll have a moment in the air and then fall like stones."
Gwen shook her head. "I don't think so. These were meant to help set us free from this place."
"These are going to get us killed," Morgana said flatly.
Gwen tugged Morgana forward and wrapped her arms tightly around the other girl. Her whole body felt like it was fevered, and as much as she wanted to stay here in Morgana's room, she knew the safety of the locked door was, and always had been, an illusion.
"These belong to you, Morgana," Gwen said. "But no one is going to make you keep them."
One of Gwen's bare feet gingerly traced the edge of a fallen gray feather.
"You could stay here. Figure out a way to take them off, hide them, marry, and forget that you ever had activities that you kept behind locked doors. Or you can come with me."
"It wouldn't be safe," Morgana said. "No place is going to be safe."
Gwen spread her wings wide. "We are not safe here either. I don't know every bit and corner of the world. Do you? How will we know that this is the best we can hope for if we don't look?"
Morgana laughed, a hollow sound that made Gwen's heart ache.
"You were the first one to pick up a sword, even though I told you that it was too dangerous, and that you would be punished," Gwen said. "Will you be as brave with me as you are with your weapons?"
Outside the world was slowly shaking itself awake. Gwen could feel opportunity slipping through her fingers, and buried her nose in Morgana's neck. She was ready to hear the words that would tell her this was good-bye.
Lips touched her forehead.
"For better or worse," Morgana murmured. "Yes."