[FIC] She's the One (Gwen/Morgana; PG-13)
Author: Anon
Title: She's the One
Pairing(s)/Character(s): Gwen/Morgana
Rating: PG-13
Summary: So far, the most surprising thing about life at the University of Camelot has been making friends with her half-brother. But when she and Arthur fall for the same girl, Morgana finds there are a few more surprises in store.
Warnings (if any): None
Total Word Count/Length: 4k
Original prompt number: 137 - Submitted by Anon
Disclaimer: This story/artwork is based on characters and situations created and owned by the BBC and Shine TV. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Beta(s): Anon
( Read on AO3 )
"She's the one, Morgana, I know it."
Morgana looked up from a highly absorbing article on Richard III's exhumation and glared at Arthur. She might have been more inclined to pay attention if he hadn't already declared two other girls to be 'the one' over the course of the past year. Neither of those had exactly turned out well, and she shuddered at the thought of another Sophia or Vivian invading their lives.
Becoming friends with Arthur was one of the more unexpected things that had happened to Morgana at the University of Camelot. Particularly unexpected since she had only recently discovered that he was her half-brother, and had chosen to go to Camelot chiefly to annoy him and by extension, Uther (whom she steadfastly refused to refer to as 'dad'). Uther of course wasn't easily phased, and turned the tables by buying a flat for the two of them to share. It had been almost impossible to say no, given the rental prices in Camelot, and although she'd braced herself for conflict at every turn, Arthur had proven surprisingly easy to get on with.
Except, of course, when he was waxing lyrical about the latest object of his affections.
"Go on then," Morgana sighed, lowering her magazine. "What's her name, then?"
"Guinevere," Arthur said, practically sighing the name. Morgana hoped they weren't in for a repeat of the serenading incident which had happened with Vivian.
"Fresher?"
"No, I don't think so. I've seen her around before. I've just never really noticed her before."
"Is she in one of your lectures?"
"No, she works in the canteen with Merlin."
Well that explained why Arthur had never noticed her before. He wasn't the type to notice the people who served his food. Or at least, he hadn't been until he'd become friends with Merlin. Who had in many ways turned out to be a good influence on him. It also explained why Arthur had started eating more often in the college canteen, despite previously, and very publicly declaring the food there to be inedible.
Morgana could almost see the rest of the term unfolding before her eyes: being dragged along to eat dry chips and soggy fish every evening while Arthur made cow eyes at some bimbo over the servery hatch. It wasn't a future she particularly relished the idea of.
When Arthur insisted on dragging her there that very evening, she began to consider a future career as a clairvoyant. Merlin was there, as usual, never far from Arthur's side. It was a bit sad, when she thought about it, that all three of their lives seemed to revolve around Arthur's love-life. Or lack thereof. Why was it she never met any pretty girls around campus?
"That's her," Arthur hissed, as Morgana piled some of the least wilted-looking salad onto her plate.
Morgana looked in the direction Arthur was indicating, expecting to see another of Arthur's usual blondes. She was not expecting to see warm brown eyes and a shy smile, a curl of dark hair escaping from the regulation paper hat and smooth skin that she just wanted to lick.
Oh. This was going to be a problem.
"So, what do you think?" Arthur asked excitedly as they slid their trays onto a free section of table.
"She's... very pretty," Morgana said, not untruthfully.
"Did I tell you how we met? I was complaining about the soup, and she completely put me in my place."
"It was quite funny," Merlin put in, although judging from his slightly sour expression, he wasn't any more pleased about the situation than she was, "I've never seen him so dumbstruck. Dumb, definitely, but struck... Ow!" he complained as Arthur cuffed him on the side of the head.
"There you go. Struck," Arthur said smugly.
Morgana couldn't help remembering the first time she had seen Arthur dumbstruck: when he'd met Merlin on their very first day of uni. Arthur had been acting like an arse, of course, and Merlin had taken him to task over something he'd said. Arthur hadn't been quite so amenable to being put in his place then, and it had been a week of scowls and traded insults before he and Merlin had suddenly become friends, following an incident at the Rugby Club's weekly drinking session, the full details of which she had yet to weasel out of either of them.
"So, when are you going to ask her out?" Morgana demanded, putting her own attraction to the girl in question to one side. "And may I suggest not while she's busy serving chips."
"I don't know," Arthur said, shrugging, suddenly unsure. In general terms, she would describe Arthur as confident to the point of arrogance, but when it came to women he was completely and utterly hopeless. "Merlin, what do you think? Would she go out with me?"
"Well," Merlin dissembled, "I don't really know her that well."
"Do you know if she has a boyfriend at least?"
"I don't think so." Merlin looked down somewhat miserably at his lasagne.
"Well, it can't hurt to ask," Morgana said briskly, making an effort to put Guinevere's smile out of her mind. "I'm off. Gaysoc meeting, sorting out our pitch for Freshers' Fayre. Merlin, you want to come along?"
"I what?" Merlin squeaked. "Um, no, no thanks Morgana." The tips of his ears went pink. She rolled her eyes. Closet case if ever there was one. Anyone with half a brain could see that he was gay as a maypole and pining hopelessly over Arthur. The half a brain criteria excluding her idiot brother, of course.
"Oh well. We always need more volunteers to hand out leaflets, if you haven't anything better to do, both of you."
*
The Freshers' Fayre was busy, and Morgana found herself feeling grateful that she was manning a stall rather than amongst the wide-eyed, disorientated looking first years wandering around being press-ganged into signing up to any number of clubs they would probably never actually get round to going to. She still had the membership card somewhere for the Pot Noodle Appreciation Society which she'd joined in a moment of madness. Possibly because they had been giving out free Pot Noodles.
Mindful of the Pot Noodles incident, she'd suggested that GaySoc hand out freebies for new members this year, and had the motion carried. At this rate she would definitely be president next year. Unless Morgause stayed on for yet another MA.
Morgana had decided to wear the 'Nobody Knows I'm a Lesbian' t-shirt Arthur had bought her for a joke last Christmas, and was doing her best to look welcoming and not intimidating, as the Society president had insisted. As Morgause was just about the most intimidating person Morgana had ever met (with the possible exception of Uther), she thought this was a bit rich, but she was doing her best to keep smiling anyway, and handing out rainbow pens. So far they had seventeen sign-ups, the most recent of which was a very earnest boy dressed all in black named Mordred.
"Excuse me," came a voice, "I'm from the Christian Union stall over there, we couldn't borrow a pen, could we? Ours has gone dry and nobody else has a spare, I've tried Debating, Orienteering and the Student Newspaper -- and you'd think if anyone would have spare pens it would be the newspaper, but no such luck."
Morgana looked up to see Guinevere, dressed in a navy t-shirt with a fish printed on it, smiling nervously at her. She herself felt a little flutter in her stomach that was almost like nerves, which was ridiculous, because she didn't get nervous.
"Of course. Here, take one. Take two, we've got lots." She pressed two of the rainbow pens into Gwen's hands. Her skin was warm and butter-soft.
"Oh, thank you!" Gwen said brightly, and if she could look so pleased and happy just from being given a couple of pens, Morgana suddenly wanted desperately to ply her with sweets and diamonds and... kittens, anything at all, just to see the smile on her face.
"I'm Morgana," she blurted out, wondering if being stupid when it came to women was a family trait. She decided it must be psychological, she'd certainly never had any trouble chatting up girls before she'd discovered she was a Pendragon.
"Guinevere. Gwen. Um, that is everyone calls me Gwen."
"Nice to meet you, Gwen," Morgana said, savouring this little snippet of information which Arthur wasn't privy to. "We're having our first society pub crawl on Friday. Starts at 8 in the Rising Sun. You know, if you're not having one of your own."
"We've gone for a picnic instead. Saturday afternoon, in the quad. Everyone welcome. Maybe I'll see you there."
It wasn't flirting, Morgana decided. She was just very friendly. Or it was all part of her sales pitch, trying to get as many new recruits as possible. Morgana stared after her as Gwen made her way back to her own stall, until Cedric poked her in the arm.
"Oi, am I going to have to do all the work, here?" he demanded.
"Bet you say that to all the boys, Cedric," she returned with a smirk, and he gave a her a look of feigned outrage before bursting out laughing.
"Speaking of which, did I tell you about that guy I went home with from the Union last term?"
"No, and I'm really not sure I want to know, if there's going to be cocks involved."
"Oh, there most certainly were..."
Whether Cedric did actually divulge the story of his latest conquest, Morgana didn't know, since she drifted off into a really rather pleasant daydream which involved her turning up to Gwen's society picnic to find her alone, spread out across the picnic blanket covered only by strategically placed strawberries and whipped cream...
*
Arthur only mentioned Guinevere about three hundred times over the course of the week. He didn't ask her out, though, and Morgana found herself torn between frustration over how he was dragging it out and hope that it might never happen. Of course even if he didn't, that didn't necessarily mean she had a chance herself. She wasn't going to fool herself about that. Everything about her screamed 'straight'.
When Arthur suggested going to the canteen when it was Gwen's shift, Morgana didn't even put up a token protest. Gwen smiled in recognition as their eyes met over the servery hatch and Morgana wondered whether she was the one who was going to be spending the term mooning after all. She barely knew her, but she'd never met anyone who'd had such a detrimental effect on her ability to concentrate.
*
Gwen didn't come to the pub crawl, and Morgana tried to tell herself she wasn't disappointed. In the end it was probably for the best, as they managed to turn up at the same pub as the Rugby Club, which resulted in a great deal of general rowdiness, one black eye (Percival, courtesy of Morgause), and both Societies being thrown out to a disapproving chorus of 'bloody students' from the locals. There had also been a curious incident involving Merlin, who by rights oughtn't even to have been there, and young Mordred. If incident was the right word for Merlin going inexplicably pale and shooting Mordred death glares all the way back to campus. If she hadn't had quite so many pints of snakebite and black, Morgana would probably have tried to get to the bottom of it.
Morgana didn't go to the Christian Union picnic, either, by reason of a very large snakebite-induced hangover.
*
But if she thought that was the end of it, she was mistaken. Monday morning Morgana was in the campus coffee shop (a weekly ritual, she always found herself in need of a pick-me-up after the first nine o'clock lecture of the week).
"Mind if I join you?" Gwen asked, when Morgana had just sat down with a large Macchiato.
"Not at all. Gwen, wasn't it?" she asked, as though she hadn't spent the past few days mentally drawing little hearts with their initials in. Morgana realised this was the first time she had seen her wearing something other than a uniform of some sort. She looked very pretty in a lilac peasant top and jeans, hair tumbling freely over her shoulders, wearing a small gold cross on a chain around her neck.
"I don't come in here that often," Gwen said, although Morgana had bitten her lip to stop herself from asking that very cliched question. "It's my Monday morning treat."
They sat and chatted for ages; Gwen talking about her course and her home town and her flatmates, sometimes babbling in a way that was just absolutely adorable, and Morgana who almost always had a cutting comeback to everything, was happy to just listen to the sound of her voice and bask in her presence.
"Oh, but I'm going on, you must be bored!"
"Not at all," Morgana protested.
"But what about you?"
"Well, I'm studying History and I live with my half-brother off campus."
"Your brother? Oh, that must be so nice to have your family close to you."
Usually, on being told she shared with her brother, people were sympathetic, commiserating about how weird that must be or asking whether they fought a lot. It was indicative of how Gwen seemed to see the best in every situation that she assumed it was a good thing. Morgana thought it an endearing quality.
"Look," she said, when the dregs of her coffee were congealing in the bottom of her cup and people in the queue at the counter began to side-eye the two of them for taking up space, "it's my birthday on Saturday and we're having a small party, nothing too fancy. If you'd like to drop in you're more than welcome."
"That sounds lovely," Gwen said, smiling, and Morgana's heart soared. "It would be nice to meet your brother," Gwen added, and her heart sank again.
"Of course," she said, resigned, hoping she didn't sound too disappointed. She'd like Gwen for a friend, at least. "Let me write down the address."
Gwen reached into her bag and rummaged around, pulling out one of the rainbow pens Morgana gave her at the Fayre and holding it out for her.
"I suppose I really ought to give it back," Gwen said, as Morgana scribbled the address and time on her napkin, deciding to risk an 'x' at the bottom. "Since I didn't actually sign up to the Soc."
"Keep it," Morgana said, handing over both napkin and pen. "Consider it an honourary membership."
*
Birthdays were a time of mixed emotions for both Morgana and Arthur. Arthur's mother had died giving birth to him, while Morgana's parents were both dead, and this was only the second year she'd celebrated her birthday knowing the truth about her parentage, which was still a source of resentment. They had a pact of mutual support and a policy of getting pissed on shots and not thinking too much about things. Which, now that she came to think about it, was pretty much Arthur's policy for everything.
There was a fridge full of beer, two large jugs of punch and a couple of bowls of crisps and some dips, which was Morgana's attempt at being civilized, just in case Gwen did show up. She hadn't told Arthur that she'd invited Gwen, deciding she couldn't really bear him being excited and asking her advice on what to wear. She also felt just the tiniest bit guilty for having coffee with Gwen almost behind Arthur's back; even though there was nothing between them, not really.
Merlin was the first to show up, bearing a small bottle of spirits with a bow around the neck.
"Hello. Happy birthday. Your usual poison."
"Merlin, you know me too well." Morgana kissed him on the cheek and let him into the flat. "Come in, Arthur's just changing."
Merlin's adam's apple bobbed visibly as he sat down on the sofa.
"So, the big 2-0, huh?"
"That's not even a phrase," Morgana scoffed. "Drink?"
"Please. Got many coming?" Merlin asked, accepting the bottle of beer she handed over.
"A few from my course, some from GaySoc." She thought back to the night of the pub crawl and decided she couldn't resist prying, just a little. "Morgause, Mithian, Mordred..." She trailed off deliberately, gauging his reaction, noting a pink flush spreading over his cheeks. "You know, I got the impression you and Mordred had met before."
"We went to the same school," Merlin replied, guardedly.
"Oh really? Were you close?"
He flinched, and Morgana began to piece a few things together in her head.
"Not really," he mumbled, picking at the label on his beer bottle.
Just then Arthur emerged from his room, ruffling Merlin's hair on his way to grab a beer from the fridge.
"Prat," Merlin complained, smoothing his hair down again.
The guests started arriving thick and fast after that, and soon the flat was full of people drinking and chatting and laughing. Morgana herself was feeling pleasantly buzzed from the punch when she opened the door to find Gwen standing there.
"Hi. I hope I'm not too late."
"Gwen!" Morgana said, delighted, pulling her into a hug. Gwen seemed a little startled but not displeased.
"I wasn't sure what to get you," Gwen said, handing over a small neatly wrapped parcel.
"You really didn't have to get me anything," Morgana said.
"I didn't want to turn up empty handed," Gwen shrugged.
"Let me take your coat." Morgana thought it was to her credit that she didn't let her hands linger for more than a second on bare skin as she slid the coat from Gwen's shoulders, revealing a black dress cut low at the back. "The kitchen's through there. Go help yourself to a drink and I'll come along and introduce you to people in a second."
Morgana added Gwen's coat to the growing pile on top of her bed and took a second to remind herself that she was not, absolutely not going to fling herself at the perfectly lovely, perfectly straight girl her brother already had his eye on.
Through the gap in the door she could hear hushed voices carrying on a strained conversation.
"...doesn't know, so..." It was Merlin, she realised. She didn't recognise the other voice but she'd bet all of her birthday booze that it was Mordred.
"...to find out... if you just..."
"...just stay away from him, and me," Merlin hissed furiously, quite unlike his usual happy-go-lucky tones.
Morgana frowned, and decided she needed to have a chat with both of them. Later.
When she reached the kitchen, she found Arthur was already fetching a drink for Gwen and smiling at her with a soppy, puppy dog look. Her stomach dropped, in what she told herself was absolutely not disappointment, just acknowledgement of the inevitable.
It wasn't the worst birthday ever. (That honour definitely went to her eighteenth, when Uther had decided to buy her a car and then announce that he was her father. The only saving grace had been legally being able to drink herself into temporary oblivion.) But it wasn't quite the happy gathering she'd hoped for. Arthur was chatting earnestly to Gwen. Mordred was shooting unreadable looks at Merlin, while Merlin was alternately glaring at Mordred and looking over at Arthur and Gwen with the worst attempt at concealing jealousy she'd ever witnessed. (She didn't dare wonder whether she was doing any better herself, she was perfectly poised at all times, of course).
Morgana herself tried not to think too much about Gwen as she moved around, chatting with some of her other friends, but even Uther's idea of a suitable flat for a couple of students wasn't enormous, and it was impossible to avoid catching glimpses of her out of the corner of her eye, a flash of skin, a flick of hair.
When she spotted Elena from her Archaeology tutorial being cornered by Morgause, she started over to rescue her when Gwen appeared right in front of her.
"Gwen! Are you having a good time?"
Elena was forgotten in an instant.
"Oh, yes. Your brother is quite... thorough in his appreciation of Elizabethan love poetry. I didn't know he studied English."
"He doesn't," Morgana snorted, barely refraining from explaining that he had read up on poetry with the sole purpose of impressing girls.
"He cooks, too, that must be a big help."
"Arthur cooks about as much as any nineteen year old boy, which is to say, he can manage pasta with sauce from a jar and Supernoodles."
"Well I did wonder why I'd seen him so often in the canteen," Gwen said with a grin. Morgana decided not to enlighten her on that score. "I was just heading into the kitchen, did you want a top-up, or..."
"Please," Morgana said brightly, "I'll come with you. I wouldn't risk the punch, though, if I were you. It always gets progressively more alcoholic throughout the evening. Especially when Cedric and Edwin are around."
"Thanks for the tip. Don't want to be tripping over my own feet on my way home."
There was a roar of laughter from the living area. Morgana glanced over to see that Mordred had taken Gwen's place on the sofa next to Arthur, Merlin watching them with a faintly murderous expression.
"So... what made you pick History then?" Gwen twisted a strand of hair around one finger.
"Well, don't laugh, but I always wanted to be in Time Team when I grew up."
"That archaeology programme where everyone's got beards and woolly jumpers?"
"Yes! I basically wanted to be Carenza. Woolly jumpers and all. Didn't you have any unusual ambitions?"
"Oh yes. For a long time I thought I wanted to be a nun."
Morgana nearly choked on her drink.
"A nun?"
"Yes," said Gwen, "I'm quite serious you know." There was a hint of a sparkle in her eyes, though, that did funny things to Morgana low in her belly.
There was a shout from the sofa. Morgana glanced over to see Arthur looking furious, standing over Mordred with his hands balled into fists.
"You see," Gwen explained, "I never really liked boys. And I've always had faith. So it seemed the ideal solution. Of course when I was about fifteen, I realised that what I really wanted to be was a lesbian."
This time Morgana really did choke on her drink, all of her attention focussed on Gwen, despite whatever chaos was brewing in the lounge.
"I'm sorry?"
"Are you? I was rather hoping you'd be pleased." Gwen gave her a look that could only adequately be described as saucy, and Morgana found herself rapidly re-evaluating certain basic assumptions she'd made about Gwen.
"Oh, I am," she purred, making a quick recovery. She reached over and took the drink out of Gwen's hand, setting it down on the counter and reeling Gwen in towards her.
Over Gwen's shoulder she could see a scowling Mordred pulling on his coat, a solicitous Cedric by his side (never one to miss an opportunity), while Arthur had one arm around a shocked looking Merlin, who was looking at him shining-eyed, as though he'd slain a dragon. Perhaps it wasn't going to be such a bad birthday after all.
"Definitely pleased," she said under her breath as Gwen pressed her lips against hers, just as soft and yielding as she'd imagined.
Epilogue
Arthur had gone to the cinema with Merlin. Morgana wasn't sure if it was a date or just a mates thing, she didn't claim to know what was going on with the two of them anymore. And frankly, now she and Gwen had the flat to themselves for the evening, she had different priorities. Starting with something she'd been fantasising about ever since that conversation at her party.
"No way." Gwen glared at the offending garment as Morgana held it out.
"Oh come on, please? For me?" Morgana had the feeling that her attempt at puppy-dog eyes didn't work nearly so well on Gwen as Gwen's did on her. "I ordered it specially."
"Well I certainly wouldn't be doing it for anyone else," Gwen said, with an exaggerated put-upon sigh which was belied by the twinkle in her eyes as she took the black and white pvc outfit from Morgana's hands. "Close your eyes."
Morgana did as she was bid, reclining on the bed with a smile stretched across her face.
"Can I open them yet?"
"No! This is even tighter than it looks, hang on."
"Can I open them now?"
"No. Oh, my. I look ridiculous. I'm sure it's disrespectful, or something."
"That's part of the fun." Morgana opened her eyes and nearly swallowed her tongue. Which would have been a shame, as she had a feeling her tongue was going to come in very useful, very soon. "Oh, wow, Gwen, you look..."
"Daft?" Gwen bit her lip, adorably unsure.
"Hot," Morgana said swiftly. "Very, very hot. Come here."
"I'm not sure I can even walk in it, much less anything else." She tumbled on to the bed, laughing.
"It's clearly a very bad habit," Morgana said solemnly, and Gwen snorted.
"Stop it!"
"I'm just glad you haven't taken any vows of chastity," she said, running one hand along Gwen's thigh.
"Seriously, Morgana, shut up."
"Well," Morgana sat back against the pillows, smirking, "you know how to make me..."
Title: She's the One
Pairing(s)/Character(s): Gwen/Morgana
Rating: PG-13
Summary: So far, the most surprising thing about life at the University of Camelot has been making friends with her half-brother. But when she and Arthur fall for the same girl, Morgana finds there are a few more surprises in store.
Warnings (if any): None
Total Word Count/Length: 4k
Original prompt number: 137 - Submitted by Anon
Disclaimer: This story/artwork is based on characters and situations created and owned by the BBC and Shine TV. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Beta(s): Anon
( Read on AO3 )
"She's the one, Morgana, I know it."
Morgana looked up from a highly absorbing article on Richard III's exhumation and glared at Arthur. She might have been more inclined to pay attention if he hadn't already declared two other girls to be 'the one' over the course of the past year. Neither of those had exactly turned out well, and she shuddered at the thought of another Sophia or Vivian invading their lives.
Becoming friends with Arthur was one of the more unexpected things that had happened to Morgana at the University of Camelot. Particularly unexpected since she had only recently discovered that he was her half-brother, and had chosen to go to Camelot chiefly to annoy him and by extension, Uther (whom she steadfastly refused to refer to as 'dad'). Uther of course wasn't easily phased, and turned the tables by buying a flat for the two of them to share. It had been almost impossible to say no, given the rental prices in Camelot, and although she'd braced herself for conflict at every turn, Arthur had proven surprisingly easy to get on with.
Except, of course, when he was waxing lyrical about the latest object of his affections.
"Go on then," Morgana sighed, lowering her magazine. "What's her name, then?"
"Guinevere," Arthur said, practically sighing the name. Morgana hoped they weren't in for a repeat of the serenading incident which had happened with Vivian.
"Fresher?"
"No, I don't think so. I've seen her around before. I've just never really noticed her before."
"Is she in one of your lectures?"
"No, she works in the canteen with Merlin."
Well that explained why Arthur had never noticed her before. He wasn't the type to notice the people who served his food. Or at least, he hadn't been until he'd become friends with Merlin. Who had in many ways turned out to be a good influence on him. It also explained why Arthur had started eating more often in the college canteen, despite previously, and very publicly declaring the food there to be inedible.
Morgana could almost see the rest of the term unfolding before her eyes: being dragged along to eat dry chips and soggy fish every evening while Arthur made cow eyes at some bimbo over the servery hatch. It wasn't a future she particularly relished the idea of.
When Arthur insisted on dragging her there that very evening, she began to consider a future career as a clairvoyant. Merlin was there, as usual, never far from Arthur's side. It was a bit sad, when she thought about it, that all three of their lives seemed to revolve around Arthur's love-life. Or lack thereof. Why was it she never met any pretty girls around campus?
"That's her," Arthur hissed, as Morgana piled some of the least wilted-looking salad onto her plate.
Morgana looked in the direction Arthur was indicating, expecting to see another of Arthur's usual blondes. She was not expecting to see warm brown eyes and a shy smile, a curl of dark hair escaping from the regulation paper hat and smooth skin that she just wanted to lick.
Oh. This was going to be a problem.
"So, what do you think?" Arthur asked excitedly as they slid their trays onto a free section of table.
"She's... very pretty," Morgana said, not untruthfully.
"Did I tell you how we met? I was complaining about the soup, and she completely put me in my place."
"It was quite funny," Merlin put in, although judging from his slightly sour expression, he wasn't any more pleased about the situation than she was, "I've never seen him so dumbstruck. Dumb, definitely, but struck... Ow!" he complained as Arthur cuffed him on the side of the head.
"There you go. Struck," Arthur said smugly.
Morgana couldn't help remembering the first time she had seen Arthur dumbstruck: when he'd met Merlin on their very first day of uni. Arthur had been acting like an arse, of course, and Merlin had taken him to task over something he'd said. Arthur hadn't been quite so amenable to being put in his place then, and it had been a week of scowls and traded insults before he and Merlin had suddenly become friends, following an incident at the Rugby Club's weekly drinking session, the full details of which she had yet to weasel out of either of them.
"So, when are you going to ask her out?" Morgana demanded, putting her own attraction to the girl in question to one side. "And may I suggest not while she's busy serving chips."
"I don't know," Arthur said, shrugging, suddenly unsure. In general terms, she would describe Arthur as confident to the point of arrogance, but when it came to women he was completely and utterly hopeless. "Merlin, what do you think? Would she go out with me?"
"Well," Merlin dissembled, "I don't really know her that well."
"Do you know if she has a boyfriend at least?"
"I don't think so." Merlin looked down somewhat miserably at his lasagne.
"Well, it can't hurt to ask," Morgana said briskly, making an effort to put Guinevere's smile out of her mind. "I'm off. Gaysoc meeting, sorting out our pitch for Freshers' Fayre. Merlin, you want to come along?"
"I what?" Merlin squeaked. "Um, no, no thanks Morgana." The tips of his ears went pink. She rolled her eyes. Closet case if ever there was one. Anyone with half a brain could see that he was gay as a maypole and pining hopelessly over Arthur. The half a brain criteria excluding her idiot brother, of course.
"Oh well. We always need more volunteers to hand out leaflets, if you haven't anything better to do, both of you."
*
The Freshers' Fayre was busy, and Morgana found herself feeling grateful that she was manning a stall rather than amongst the wide-eyed, disorientated looking first years wandering around being press-ganged into signing up to any number of clubs they would probably never actually get round to going to. She still had the membership card somewhere for the Pot Noodle Appreciation Society which she'd joined in a moment of madness. Possibly because they had been giving out free Pot Noodles.
Mindful of the Pot Noodles incident, she'd suggested that GaySoc hand out freebies for new members this year, and had the motion carried. At this rate she would definitely be president next year. Unless Morgause stayed on for yet another MA.
Morgana had decided to wear the 'Nobody Knows I'm a Lesbian' t-shirt Arthur had bought her for a joke last Christmas, and was doing her best to look welcoming and not intimidating, as the Society president had insisted. As Morgause was just about the most intimidating person Morgana had ever met (with the possible exception of Uther), she thought this was a bit rich, but she was doing her best to keep smiling anyway, and handing out rainbow pens. So far they had seventeen sign-ups, the most recent of which was a very earnest boy dressed all in black named Mordred.
"Excuse me," came a voice, "I'm from the Christian Union stall over there, we couldn't borrow a pen, could we? Ours has gone dry and nobody else has a spare, I've tried Debating, Orienteering and the Student Newspaper -- and you'd think if anyone would have spare pens it would be the newspaper, but no such luck."
Morgana looked up to see Guinevere, dressed in a navy t-shirt with a fish printed on it, smiling nervously at her. She herself felt a little flutter in her stomach that was almost like nerves, which was ridiculous, because she didn't get nervous.
"Of course. Here, take one. Take two, we've got lots." She pressed two of the rainbow pens into Gwen's hands. Her skin was warm and butter-soft.
"Oh, thank you!" Gwen said brightly, and if she could look so pleased and happy just from being given a couple of pens, Morgana suddenly wanted desperately to ply her with sweets and diamonds and... kittens, anything at all, just to see the smile on her face.
"I'm Morgana," she blurted out, wondering if being stupid when it came to women was a family trait. She decided it must be psychological, she'd certainly never had any trouble chatting up girls before she'd discovered she was a Pendragon.
"Guinevere. Gwen. Um, that is everyone calls me Gwen."
"Nice to meet you, Gwen," Morgana said, savouring this little snippet of information which Arthur wasn't privy to. "We're having our first society pub crawl on Friday. Starts at 8 in the Rising Sun. You know, if you're not having one of your own."
"We've gone for a picnic instead. Saturday afternoon, in the quad. Everyone welcome. Maybe I'll see you there."
It wasn't flirting, Morgana decided. She was just very friendly. Or it was all part of her sales pitch, trying to get as many new recruits as possible. Morgana stared after her as Gwen made her way back to her own stall, until Cedric poked her in the arm.
"Oi, am I going to have to do all the work, here?" he demanded.
"Bet you say that to all the boys, Cedric," she returned with a smirk, and he gave a her a look of feigned outrage before bursting out laughing.
"Speaking of which, did I tell you about that guy I went home with from the Union last term?"
"No, and I'm really not sure I want to know, if there's going to be cocks involved."
"Oh, there most certainly were..."
Whether Cedric did actually divulge the story of his latest conquest, Morgana didn't know, since she drifted off into a really rather pleasant daydream which involved her turning up to Gwen's society picnic to find her alone, spread out across the picnic blanket covered only by strategically placed strawberries and whipped cream...
*
Arthur only mentioned Guinevere about three hundred times over the course of the week. He didn't ask her out, though, and Morgana found herself torn between frustration over how he was dragging it out and hope that it might never happen. Of course even if he didn't, that didn't necessarily mean she had a chance herself. She wasn't going to fool herself about that. Everything about her screamed 'straight'.
When Arthur suggested going to the canteen when it was Gwen's shift, Morgana didn't even put up a token protest. Gwen smiled in recognition as their eyes met over the servery hatch and Morgana wondered whether she was the one who was going to be spending the term mooning after all. She barely knew her, but she'd never met anyone who'd had such a detrimental effect on her ability to concentrate.
*
Gwen didn't come to the pub crawl, and Morgana tried to tell herself she wasn't disappointed. In the end it was probably for the best, as they managed to turn up at the same pub as the Rugby Club, which resulted in a great deal of general rowdiness, one black eye (Percival, courtesy of Morgause), and both Societies being thrown out to a disapproving chorus of 'bloody students' from the locals. There had also been a curious incident involving Merlin, who by rights oughtn't even to have been there, and young Mordred. If incident was the right word for Merlin going inexplicably pale and shooting Mordred death glares all the way back to campus. If she hadn't had quite so many pints of snakebite and black, Morgana would probably have tried to get to the bottom of it.
Morgana didn't go to the Christian Union picnic, either, by reason of a very large snakebite-induced hangover.
*
But if she thought that was the end of it, she was mistaken. Monday morning Morgana was in the campus coffee shop (a weekly ritual, she always found herself in need of a pick-me-up after the first nine o'clock lecture of the week).
"Mind if I join you?" Gwen asked, when Morgana had just sat down with a large Macchiato.
"Not at all. Gwen, wasn't it?" she asked, as though she hadn't spent the past few days mentally drawing little hearts with their initials in. Morgana realised this was the first time she had seen her wearing something other than a uniform of some sort. She looked very pretty in a lilac peasant top and jeans, hair tumbling freely over her shoulders, wearing a small gold cross on a chain around her neck.
"I don't come in here that often," Gwen said, although Morgana had bitten her lip to stop herself from asking that very cliched question. "It's my Monday morning treat."
They sat and chatted for ages; Gwen talking about her course and her home town and her flatmates, sometimes babbling in a way that was just absolutely adorable, and Morgana who almost always had a cutting comeback to everything, was happy to just listen to the sound of her voice and bask in her presence.
"Oh, but I'm going on, you must be bored!"
"Not at all," Morgana protested.
"But what about you?"
"Well, I'm studying History and I live with my half-brother off campus."
"Your brother? Oh, that must be so nice to have your family close to you."
Usually, on being told she shared with her brother, people were sympathetic, commiserating about how weird that must be or asking whether they fought a lot. It was indicative of how Gwen seemed to see the best in every situation that she assumed it was a good thing. Morgana thought it an endearing quality.
"Look," she said, when the dregs of her coffee were congealing in the bottom of her cup and people in the queue at the counter began to side-eye the two of them for taking up space, "it's my birthday on Saturday and we're having a small party, nothing too fancy. If you'd like to drop in you're more than welcome."
"That sounds lovely," Gwen said, smiling, and Morgana's heart soared. "It would be nice to meet your brother," Gwen added, and her heart sank again.
"Of course," she said, resigned, hoping she didn't sound too disappointed. She'd like Gwen for a friend, at least. "Let me write down the address."
Gwen reached into her bag and rummaged around, pulling out one of the rainbow pens Morgana gave her at the Fayre and holding it out for her.
"I suppose I really ought to give it back," Gwen said, as Morgana scribbled the address and time on her napkin, deciding to risk an 'x' at the bottom. "Since I didn't actually sign up to the Soc."
"Keep it," Morgana said, handing over both napkin and pen. "Consider it an honourary membership."
*
Birthdays were a time of mixed emotions for both Morgana and Arthur. Arthur's mother had died giving birth to him, while Morgana's parents were both dead, and this was only the second year she'd celebrated her birthday knowing the truth about her parentage, which was still a source of resentment. They had a pact of mutual support and a policy of getting pissed on shots and not thinking too much about things. Which, now that she came to think about it, was pretty much Arthur's policy for everything.
There was a fridge full of beer, two large jugs of punch and a couple of bowls of crisps and some dips, which was Morgana's attempt at being civilized, just in case Gwen did show up. She hadn't told Arthur that she'd invited Gwen, deciding she couldn't really bear him being excited and asking her advice on what to wear. She also felt just the tiniest bit guilty for having coffee with Gwen almost behind Arthur's back; even though there was nothing between them, not really.
Merlin was the first to show up, bearing a small bottle of spirits with a bow around the neck.
"Hello. Happy birthday. Your usual poison."
"Merlin, you know me too well." Morgana kissed him on the cheek and let him into the flat. "Come in, Arthur's just changing."
Merlin's adam's apple bobbed visibly as he sat down on the sofa.
"So, the big 2-0, huh?"
"That's not even a phrase," Morgana scoffed. "Drink?"
"Please. Got many coming?" Merlin asked, accepting the bottle of beer she handed over.
"A few from my course, some from GaySoc." She thought back to the night of the pub crawl and decided she couldn't resist prying, just a little. "Morgause, Mithian, Mordred..." She trailed off deliberately, gauging his reaction, noting a pink flush spreading over his cheeks. "You know, I got the impression you and Mordred had met before."
"We went to the same school," Merlin replied, guardedly.
"Oh really? Were you close?"
He flinched, and Morgana began to piece a few things together in her head.
"Not really," he mumbled, picking at the label on his beer bottle.
Just then Arthur emerged from his room, ruffling Merlin's hair on his way to grab a beer from the fridge.
"Prat," Merlin complained, smoothing his hair down again.
The guests started arriving thick and fast after that, and soon the flat was full of people drinking and chatting and laughing. Morgana herself was feeling pleasantly buzzed from the punch when she opened the door to find Gwen standing there.
"Hi. I hope I'm not too late."
"Gwen!" Morgana said, delighted, pulling her into a hug. Gwen seemed a little startled but not displeased.
"I wasn't sure what to get you," Gwen said, handing over a small neatly wrapped parcel.
"You really didn't have to get me anything," Morgana said.
"I didn't want to turn up empty handed," Gwen shrugged.
"Let me take your coat." Morgana thought it was to her credit that she didn't let her hands linger for more than a second on bare skin as she slid the coat from Gwen's shoulders, revealing a black dress cut low at the back. "The kitchen's through there. Go help yourself to a drink and I'll come along and introduce you to people in a second."
Morgana added Gwen's coat to the growing pile on top of her bed and took a second to remind herself that she was not, absolutely not going to fling herself at the perfectly lovely, perfectly straight girl her brother already had his eye on.
Through the gap in the door she could hear hushed voices carrying on a strained conversation.
"...doesn't know, so..." It was Merlin, she realised. She didn't recognise the other voice but she'd bet all of her birthday booze that it was Mordred.
"...to find out... if you just..."
"...just stay away from him, and me," Merlin hissed furiously, quite unlike his usual happy-go-lucky tones.
Morgana frowned, and decided she needed to have a chat with both of them. Later.
When she reached the kitchen, she found Arthur was already fetching a drink for Gwen and smiling at her with a soppy, puppy dog look. Her stomach dropped, in what she told herself was absolutely not disappointment, just acknowledgement of the inevitable.
It wasn't the worst birthday ever. (That honour definitely went to her eighteenth, when Uther had decided to buy her a car and then announce that he was her father. The only saving grace had been legally being able to drink herself into temporary oblivion.) But it wasn't quite the happy gathering she'd hoped for. Arthur was chatting earnestly to Gwen. Mordred was shooting unreadable looks at Merlin, while Merlin was alternately glaring at Mordred and looking over at Arthur and Gwen with the worst attempt at concealing jealousy she'd ever witnessed. (She didn't dare wonder whether she was doing any better herself, she was perfectly poised at all times, of course).
Morgana herself tried not to think too much about Gwen as she moved around, chatting with some of her other friends, but even Uther's idea of a suitable flat for a couple of students wasn't enormous, and it was impossible to avoid catching glimpses of her out of the corner of her eye, a flash of skin, a flick of hair.
When she spotted Elena from her Archaeology tutorial being cornered by Morgause, she started over to rescue her when Gwen appeared right in front of her.
"Gwen! Are you having a good time?"
Elena was forgotten in an instant.
"Oh, yes. Your brother is quite... thorough in his appreciation of Elizabethan love poetry. I didn't know he studied English."
"He doesn't," Morgana snorted, barely refraining from explaining that he had read up on poetry with the sole purpose of impressing girls.
"He cooks, too, that must be a big help."
"Arthur cooks about as much as any nineteen year old boy, which is to say, he can manage pasta with sauce from a jar and Supernoodles."
"Well I did wonder why I'd seen him so often in the canteen," Gwen said with a grin. Morgana decided not to enlighten her on that score. "I was just heading into the kitchen, did you want a top-up, or..."
"Please," Morgana said brightly, "I'll come with you. I wouldn't risk the punch, though, if I were you. It always gets progressively more alcoholic throughout the evening. Especially when Cedric and Edwin are around."
"Thanks for the tip. Don't want to be tripping over my own feet on my way home."
There was a roar of laughter from the living area. Morgana glanced over to see that Mordred had taken Gwen's place on the sofa next to Arthur, Merlin watching them with a faintly murderous expression.
"So... what made you pick History then?" Gwen twisted a strand of hair around one finger.
"Well, don't laugh, but I always wanted to be in Time Team when I grew up."
"That archaeology programme where everyone's got beards and woolly jumpers?"
"Yes! I basically wanted to be Carenza. Woolly jumpers and all. Didn't you have any unusual ambitions?"
"Oh yes. For a long time I thought I wanted to be a nun."
Morgana nearly choked on her drink.
"A nun?"
"Yes," said Gwen, "I'm quite serious you know." There was a hint of a sparkle in her eyes, though, that did funny things to Morgana low in her belly.
There was a shout from the sofa. Morgana glanced over to see Arthur looking furious, standing over Mordred with his hands balled into fists.
"You see," Gwen explained, "I never really liked boys. And I've always had faith. So it seemed the ideal solution. Of course when I was about fifteen, I realised that what I really wanted to be was a lesbian."
This time Morgana really did choke on her drink, all of her attention focussed on Gwen, despite whatever chaos was brewing in the lounge.
"I'm sorry?"
"Are you? I was rather hoping you'd be pleased." Gwen gave her a look that could only adequately be described as saucy, and Morgana found herself rapidly re-evaluating certain basic assumptions she'd made about Gwen.
"Oh, I am," she purred, making a quick recovery. She reached over and took the drink out of Gwen's hand, setting it down on the counter and reeling Gwen in towards her.
Over Gwen's shoulder she could see a scowling Mordred pulling on his coat, a solicitous Cedric by his side (never one to miss an opportunity), while Arthur had one arm around a shocked looking Merlin, who was looking at him shining-eyed, as though he'd slain a dragon. Perhaps it wasn't going to be such a bad birthday after all.
"Definitely pleased," she said under her breath as Gwen pressed her lips against hers, just as soft and yielding as she'd imagined.
Epilogue
Arthur had gone to the cinema with Merlin. Morgana wasn't sure if it was a date or just a mates thing, she didn't claim to know what was going on with the two of them anymore. And frankly, now she and Gwen had the flat to themselves for the evening, she had different priorities. Starting with something she'd been fantasising about ever since that conversation at her party.
"No way." Gwen glared at the offending garment as Morgana held it out.
"Oh come on, please? For me?" Morgana had the feeling that her attempt at puppy-dog eyes didn't work nearly so well on Gwen as Gwen's did on her. "I ordered it specially."
"Well I certainly wouldn't be doing it for anyone else," Gwen said, with an exaggerated put-upon sigh which was belied by the twinkle in her eyes as she took the black and white pvc outfit from Morgana's hands. "Close your eyes."
Morgana did as she was bid, reclining on the bed with a smile stretched across her face.
"Can I open them yet?"
"No! This is even tighter than it looks, hang on."
"Can I open them now?"
"No. Oh, my. I look ridiculous. I'm sure it's disrespectful, or something."
"That's part of the fun." Morgana opened her eyes and nearly swallowed her tongue. Which would have been a shame, as she had a feeling her tongue was going to come in very useful, very soon. "Oh, wow, Gwen, you look..."
"Daft?" Gwen bit her lip, adorably unsure.
"Hot," Morgana said swiftly. "Very, very hot. Come here."
"I'm not sure I can even walk in it, much less anything else." She tumbled on to the bed, laughing.
"It's clearly a very bad habit," Morgana said solemnly, and Gwen snorted.
"Stop it!"
"I'm just glad you haven't taken any vows of chastity," she said, running one hand along Gwen's thigh.
"Seriously, Morgana, shut up."
"Well," Morgana sat back against the pillows, smirking, "you know how to make me..."