"It's not even that you're going to get me arrested - I mean, it's bad of course, it's more than bad, my father is going to die of shame and Morgana is going to do something reckless that gets her in trouble too, and of course I would be in the dungeons which is bad in and of itself-"
"Gwen, breathe."
"-but if it were for a good reason, something noble and right and just, I'd at least feel better about it!" Gwen doesn't breathe. "Not much, of course, because the dungeons are a pretty sad place to be, but still."
Merlin adjusts the front of the wheelbarrow against the stone base. "You don't have to be here, you know? And it is for a good cause."
Gwen's arm makes a wide arch that comes a breath away from clipping Merlin's ear. "What good cause could ever need a dog statue?!"
For a moment, Merlin halts his attempts at pushing - with his whole chest and both arms, ineffectually - at the dog statue in question. He seems to look at it as if searching for the answer in the chiselled snout, but the stone remains quiet to his plea.
When he looks up at Gwen, his cheeks are slightly red and his smile has the half-embarrassed bright quality of when she catches him in another trip to the stocks. Even the angle of his position is similar. "If I told you, then you'd be my accomplice, wouldn't you? This way you can claim you didn't know anything."
Gwen's frenzy goes still all at once; her shoulders drop and her arms fall by her sides, but her chin rises and her frown sharpens. "I wouldn't do that," she speaks slowly, a mixture of offense and hurt in her somber tone. "I wouldn't turn on you like that."
Merlin falters a bit. His smirk changes into a small ring of surprise and his eyes widen slightly.
Gwen has not known Merlin for that long, truly. There are many others in the castle that have grown up with her, who saw her turn from child to girl to woman, who shared her evenings by the kitchen fires or a cup of mead at Beltane.
In the few weeks they've known each other, Merlin has given her a bright smile, open arms and a cheeky attitude that got him in trouble just about as many times as it made her laugh. He has been nice to her since the first day, and he'd come to her for help with Arthur's armour even though she's a woman.
That last fact, indeed, he hardly seems to take to notice. It is both exhilarating and kind of hurtful, at times. She tries not to be bitter about it.
He's given Arthur a piece of his mind, and acted rashly but with good intentions most of the time since he's been in Camelot.
This, she supposes, must be another one of those occurrences, but after the last one turned on him and Arthur so badly she hesitates to leave him alone with his own plans.
Especially after she was the one who told him he had to do something. What was she thinking, truly?
"Gwen," Merlin says gently, his head peeking from above the dog's shoulder. "Thank you."
That right there is her problem: those earnest, honest, kind blue eyes of his.
She sighs hard enough to blow the hair out of her eyes. "But when the guards arrest us, I will demand an apology out of you."
"All you want," he says, dangerously unaware of how much she wishes she could ask of him.
Then, he's pushing at the statue again. If Gwen were to say it moved a hair-width, it'd be out of kindness and a pure lie. "Oh, move aside."
At first, he doesn't. He looks confused at her approach and she has to swat - gently! - at his hands to get him to let go.
The thing about Merlin is that he has a great heart, but that's about the only big muscle he possesses.
Gwen, on the other hand, wears wide sleeves to hide the bulging of her arms and puffy necklines to conceal the squareness of her shoulders and corsets to disguise the shape of her waist; all inheritances she's been left by her brother when he fucked off who knew where to get into who knows what danger, and her father had had no one else to hand to heavy tools and ores.
Today, possibly for the first time, she finds herself glad of it all.
The stone is heavy and oddly shaped, so it's not exactly an easy task, but Gwen bends her knees and breathes deeply in through her nose and out of her mouth and she slides the statue, with her arms firmly around it, until it tips off its stand. It is another effort to accompany it to the wheelbarrow so it won't break, but once it rests there, Gwen lets out a heavy huff.
She moans a bit as she stretches back up, hands finding the low of her back. "Alright. Now quickly before the guards see us. I cannot believe I'm getting arrested for stealing a dog statue!"
Merlin is staring at her. His stillness, so out of character, is what makes her falter in turn. His eyes are wide and his mouth open, and he's frozen.
Shame climbs her throat. Great going, Gwen, a voice snaps in her mind, Now he's sure to never think of you as a woman.
Not that she wants him to, of course, that'd be so presumptuous and fast, they don't know each other that well after all, though to be fair she's helping him commit theft, so maybe that'd ought to come after a wedding or at least a proposal, not that she's expecting any and, oh gosh, she's getting ahead of herself again and-
"Gwen!" Merlin's delighted call cuts through the fog of her mortification. "You are...wonderful!"
He's on her before the words can truly register. With way too much enthusiasm, he wraps his arms around her and crushes her into his chest, squeezing the breath out of her lungs. He lets her go barely a moment after, and his hands slip up her arms to her shoulders and he's kissing her.
Merlin is kissing her.
Merlin is kissing her.
It's not a real kiss, it's a forehead kiss, but her heart kicks off at galopp nonetheless.
When he pulls back, his mouth has already stretched into a bright grin, but the shadow of his lips is pressed still against her skin and she's left helpless under the weight.
"I can take it from here, don't worry, go back to Morgana and I'll fix this, I promise, and thank you, Gwen!"
Either he doesn't notice her stunning or he doesn't know to look for it because he thinks nothing of what he's done, but in any case he's an idiot because he turns around, grabs the wheelbarrow and leaves.
Gwen is left there, frozen still in front of an empty stand in the middle of the courtyard, with the knowledge of how Merlin's lips feel and the expectation that she goes on with her life unchanged from it.
He's gone from her sight a moment later. That rascal.
Slowly, Gwen brings the tips of her fingers to the kissed spot, expecting at least something, anything, a difference in temperature, a mark of some kind. Her blood is rushing up her neck and into her cheeks and her stomach is squeezing.
Steps, heavy and purposeful, make her jolt. The shadows of two soldiers appear on the wall and send her not-quite running but certainly walking briskly. She ducks into the doors to the kitchens and makes a show of collecting a small tray with fruit and pastries for her lady's afternoon.
As she climbs the steps up Morgana's rooms, though, she cannot help the blush on her cheeks nor the witless smile on her lips.
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dropping this in your box “⇰ someone whispering “can I?” or “just once” before going for it and RUINING ME EMOTIONALLY” and running away!
any pairing/ship you like! i just wanna read this in your style (no pressure ofc) :))
OMG YESSSS I WAS HOPING FOR THIS ONE!!!! Ask and you shall receive 👹
kiss tips
—
Trepidation. That was all that Merlin felt coursing through him as he stood before his best friend. It was strange, seeing as by Gwen’s side was one of the places he felt most comfortable, and most at home. It didn’t matter now — nothing did, except whether or not she felt the same about him.
She stood before him looking up, quivering just so, her lips slightly parted as if in preparation to speak, yet no sound escaped them.
Still, he braved a step forward, his hand curving against the side of her neck as though it belonged there.
“Just once,” he whispered, more to himself than to her, though the tiny nod Gwen gave him emboldened him enough to press his lips against hers. Gwen kissed him back and he grew bolder still, his other hand fitting itself to her waist while he angled his head to the side, deepening the kiss. Gwen released a tiny squeak, pulling her head back just enough to breathe. Cold air rushed over Merlin’s face, returning him to his senses.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have — ” he began, mumbled and half dazed, almost afraid, slowly releasing her from his grasp.
He inhaled quickly, shaking his head, repeating emphatically, “I’m sorry.”
“Merlin — ”
His name was barely out of her mouth before he was turning and walking away, practically sprinting back towards the castle.
He’d ruined it, that much he was sure of, ruined everything.
Though he supposed, if ruination felt that good, he understood how kingdoms were razed, armies felled and fallen and brought to their knees.
He spent the rest of the night wide awake, thinking only of Guinevere’s lips against his own, and every feeling that had rushed through him all the while and afterwards.
“wearing the other person’s old shirt to sleep better”
OR
“wrapping the other person up in their jacket to stay warm”
or anything on the list! i jusf want to read your take on it :))
You are always welcome in here omg 💗 now for some heartbreak, as a treat!!
sharing clothes prompts
—
He was gone. Guinevere knew that. She’d felt it when it happened, as though someone had thrown an ax and cleaved her heart straight in two. She’d fallen to the ground immediately, her body wracked with sobs. Merlin was the only person who could calm her down, convince her to leave where she was and return to her rooms. She hadn’t known how he’d appeared so quickly, but she’d long since stopped questioning his mysterious appearances.
All she noticed was no light remained in either of their eyes.
For days, she couldn’t sleep. She tossed and turned in the throes of her grief, mourning the greatest lost she’d felt since her father passed. Arthur was ingrained in her soul, and when he left, he took a piece of her with him.
Gwen trudged through the days with dark shadows beneath her eyes, trying as hard as she could to keep her head above water and the kingdom afloat alongside it.
A month passed, then two. By the third, Merlin’s concern had grown ten sizes.
“You need rest, my lady.”
She looked at him, her eyes, though deeply sad, pricking with the barest hint of her old self as she softly corrected, “Gwen. It’s always been Gwen to you. You know that.”
Even now, in the middle of the night, both of them in nightclothes, hiding away in the kitchen, she was still Gwen, and he Merlin. Their friendship was not so far removed, not so altered, that they could not remain familiar.
“I know that, Your Highness,” Merlin repeated, sighing quietly as he added, “Gwen. I know that. I also know you need rest.”
“I can’t sleep,” she confessed, snapping slightly. “Don’t you think I would if I was able to? I haven’t been able to sleep since he — ”
She couldn’t bring herself to say it, though thankfully she didn’t have to. Merlin nodded, his I know unspoken yet still hovering between them.
“I have an idea,” he said after a moment, offering her his hand. She took it, nodding slowly. He led her back to her own bedroom, rustling around until he produced one of Arthur’s shirts.
“Put this on.”
“What?”
“Just… trust me.”
Though bewildered, she took the shirt from him, disappearing to change.
“You didn’t enchant it, did you?”
“Very funny.”
She reappeared after a few moments, a lightness he hadn’t seen in months briefly returned to her. The shirt was large on her, engulfing her smaller figure beneath it. Merlin cleared his throat, looking away, his cheeks dusted with a light pink.
“Go lay down.”
“All right.”
Guinevere did as she was told, crawling beneath the covers of her bed. She had no idea how this was meant to help her sleep, though her limbs did feel slightly heavier than usual.
“Now breathe.”
She followed his latest instruction, and tears streamed from her eyes after she inhaled. It wasn’t a shock to find the shirt smelled like Arthur, but it was another reminder that he wasn’t here.
“Wait,” she told him, wiping her eyes and sitting up slowly. Merlin stopped, having been carefully moving towards the door as to not disturb her.
“Stay. Come here.”
He heeded Gwen’s command, sitting down at the edge of the bed. She shook her head.
“No, I mean — here.”
She placed a palm on the space next to her. Merlin swallowed nervously, but slid into her bed as she instructed.
Gwen bit down on her lip, deliberating for half a second before she placed a hand on his arm.
“Would you… I mean, would you…?”
She couldn’t get the words out, another tear slipping past her cheek. Thankfully, he could still read her mind after all these years.
“Yes,” he murmured. “Of course.”
Merlin wrapped his arms around her. Not for the first time, they cried together, took turns brushing the water from each other’s faces. Though, when they had both calmed, Guinevere settled back, taking Merlin with her.
“Please don’t disappear,” she whispered. He placed his head down atop hers, and the gesture reminded her so fiercely of her husband that she took a shaky breath to keep herself from breaking down again.
“I won’t,” Merlin whispered. “I promise.”
He wasn’t Arthur. Gwen, however, didn’t want him to be. She wondered what he would have thought, his wife and his advisor huddled together, bound by his memory. She pushed the thought and any remaining guilt away as a yawn arrived. Guinevere settled into Merlin’s chest, listening to his heart as he held her.
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Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
