Spirits of the Breach

It was a night unlike every other evening Morgana prepared for bed, a break in all the other quiet hours she spent alone, because of the woman lying by her side.

Gwen had just finished brushing her lady's tresses and now lay back on the mattress, finishing up her repair of a dress by the waning candlelight.

Morgana observed her friend in the dancing light of the flames and allowed herself the privilege to stare while she was distracted. She watched Gwen's nimble fingers catch and pull the needle through the bodice of the gown with a practiced fluidity, her stance completely relaxed in the familiarity of the movement.

It wasn't often that Morgana would see her maidservant look so calm; ever since she had returned to court Gwen had been unusually careful around her, completing her work and then leaving with as much hurry, as if Morgana would break with the expense of her presence.

The silence in her chambers had been both a relief and a warring frustration, and Morgana felt that familiar tension again as she watched her friend deftly bring the dress back to a state of modesty.

Did she want Gwen to stay, or to leave her alone? She couldn't quite decide.

Soon the other girl would bid Morgana goodnight and blow out the candelabra on the lady's vanity with a soft breath; then make her way home for the night. Soon Morgana would be alone.

Gwen finished the stitch with a quiet hum and Morgana made up her mind.

"Gwen."

"Morgana." Gwen answered, a hidden smile in reply at her lady's languid voice.

"I know you must head home soon, but I had a request."

Gwen's shoulders rose defensively, and Morgana's words faltered; the spell of quiet between them had broken.

Yet she didn't hesitate to reach over to still the movement of Gwen's hands with her own. She looked into the warm brown of the other woman's eyes with a sudden nervousness.

"I was wondering if you could tell me a story."

Gwen's heartbeat slowed from the sudden uptick, and her brows furrowed in confusion. "You haven't asked for a story in years my lady." She looked over Morgana's face, which revealed nothing as usual.

"Shall I ask Gaius for a stronger draught?"

"No, don't trouble yourself. The old man's probably fast asleep by now. I wouldn't want to wake him for my troubles."

She fell back on her pillow with a sigh, hoping Gwen would humor her, if only out of pity.

"And no, the nightmares have not returned."

Without even looking, Morgana knew Gwen had quirked an eyebrow in response, an indication that she suspected the lie.

Morgana had always preferred a story, over all other distractions, to help her fall asleep; but this time she had other reasons for the company. She could only hope Gwen would read in between the lines.

Promptly, Gwen gathered the dress into her arms and stood up, striding to the door of the chambers. For a moment Morgana feared she would take her leave early, and leave her lady to her fate, and she prepared for the disappointing goodbye.

She was surprised to see the other woman turn around, with a reassuring smile. "Of course, Morgana."

Gwen placed the dress on the dresser and lay back on the mattress again, a little farther than necessary from her mistress.

"Which shall I tell?" She asked archly.

Morgana drew her eyebrows together in thought, but Gwen knew she was just fooling. Common for us these days.