It had been a long time since they last saw each other. As soon as the news of Morgana's abduction reached Gwen, she knew she had to see her, but, with Arthur hovering over her like a mother bird, she could barely even get a good look at her. She wasn't allowed in her room for a while whilst Gaius had tended to her; Uther's orders of course. She paced outside anxiously, longing to see that she was alright.

When Gaius finally exited the room, her heart fluttered with an array of battling emotions, longing and yet hesitant to know how bad off she was.

"How is she?" she asked, wringing out her skirt to bust her nerves.

"She has suffered minimal injures, Gwen," Gaius assured. "She's entirely fine, I assure you."

Gwen's relief could not be stifled as she let out a heavy sigh. "That's great news, Gaius."

"Arthur is on his way," the physician noted, "but it will be a few minutes before he gets here. If you wish to speak to her . . ."

"Yes, of course," Gwen said a bit too quickly as she lifted her skirt and headed for the door. "Thank you, Gaius."

Gaius smiled warily, remembering the evils Morgana had dabbled in before, but left without any further speculation.

Gwen's pace slowed as she passed through the threshold, seeing the silhouette of her master's form sitting on the bed through one of the curtains. As she quietly made her way into the room, she peered around the veil, revealing Morgana's eyes; an unusual look in them as they gazed out the far window.

"My lady?" Gwen questioned as she wondered closer.

Morgana was startled from her musings and her head spun to meet her maidservant. "Gwen!" She cried softly.

"I wanted to make sure you were alright," Gwen said as she hurriedly sat in a seat beside the bed.

"I'm fine, Gwen," she assure as she swung her legs to Gwen's side of the bed so that she sat facing her. "How have you been?"

"Me?" Gwen questioned. "I've been here worrying about you," she sighed with a smile.

"I'm sure you could have occupied yourself somehow," Morgana insisted, belittling herself for the sake of her friend.

Gwen chuckled. "Unless serving the king qualifies as occupying," Gwen chuckled. "He is a strict man; always running me about the castle. I didn't mind though. It's my job."

Morgana's heart sunk. The thought of Gwen at the hands of Uther made her sick. The cruel man who betrayed her father and her kind, ordering a girl so sweet as Gwen.

The girl in question seemed to notice her discomfort and said, "Is everything alright?"

"What? Oh, yes, Gwen!" She assured, holding out her arms. "I'm just so glad to see you. How I've missed you so." She surprised the serving girl as she was enveloped in a hug.

Despite the informality of the situation, Gwen felt compelled to hug her back. So, she did.

Morgana's words echoed back to herself in her ear. All day she'd been telling people how much she had missed them, but they had all been feigned. But this time, this time she felt as if the words were true, her heart stirring, beating in rhythm with Gwen's as she held her close. They stayed like that for a long while, not even noticing the way the time passed.

However, finally, they pulled apart when there was a knock at the door and Arthur's voice boomed through, asking for entry.

"Come in," Morgana called, still holding Gwen's hands in her own. She looked into her eyes as she waited for the prince to enter and found herself lost in them. They were so caring and so genuine that she found it hard to look away.

"I will," Gwen said, standing up, gently taking her hand from her grasp, "fetch you something to eat."

"Thank you, Gwen," she said, sincerely.

She looked after her as she turned to go, relishing in the way they seemed to care for each other. Her caring was not like Arthur's or Uther's, and certainly not like Merlin's broken attempts to help her. They were all pretending. If they knew who she was, they would soon turn on her, like Merlin had. But Gwen . . . Morgana had seen Gwen stand up for those who had magic, seen her care for them. The heavy weight in her heart seemed to lighten a fraction at the thought. Perhaps Gwen would accept her.

And as she got one last look at Gwen, just before her spiraling curls disappeared behind the door, she thought that, just maybe, there was someone in Camelot who cared about her. She promised herself then, that not a hair on her head would be touched when she brought her wrath down upon Camelot. Maybe, she might even fancy ruling beside her . . .