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“Don’t touch me, please,” Guinevere whispered, her voice cracking on the last word. Morgana withdrew her arm from around Guinevere’s waist.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured. Guinevere wrapped her arms around herself.
“It’s alright… I just can’t help but to think of– of Arthur.”
“Of course. I’m so sorry, Gwen. I didn’t think, love.” Guinevere nodded and took a step forward, a sign that she was ready to move on from the moment. Morgana fell into step behind her.
Guinevere had been… not exactly quiet, but something similar. Subdued, perhaps. The memory of discovering Guinevere in that small, draughty bedchamber, laying unnaturally still appeared too commonly before her eyes. She could not imagine what it must be like for Guinevere, who had experienced the terrible thing in its entirety. The queen often had a far-away look in her eye now. As if she were trying to transport herself away from Camelot and the echoes of Arthur that existed around every corner.
“Morgana?” The sorceress looked up, realising that Guinevere was several paces ahead.
“Sorry, my love. I was thinking. Let’s go, Athena will be missing us.” Guinevere nodded.
⧱⧱⧱ ⧱⧱⧱
Athena skipped into the dining hall, followed closely by her nursemaid.
“Hi, Mummy; hi, Mama.” Athena greeted them and crawled onto Guinevere’s lap. Morgana made hasty eye contact with Guinevere to make sure she was comfortable. Guinevere nodded reassuringly at her.
Morgana settled into her seat.
“Mama, Nanny brought me to the gardens today!” Athena informed her enthusiastically.
“Oh? Did you pick flowers?” Guinevere asked. If Morgana hadn’t known her better, she would accept the mask of attentiveness laid over the queen’s features.
“I wanted to, but Nanny said that I should ask you and Mummy first in case they were special flowers,” Athena said. Guinevere nodded.
“Shall we go on a walk tomorrow and pick some?” Morgana suggested. Athena bounced excitedly on Guinevere’s lap.
“Yeah! Some for my room and some for Mama and Mummy!” Morgana smiled.
⧱⧱⧱ ⧱⧱⧱
Guinevere kissed Athena’s forehead and tucked the bedclothes up around her chin. Athena giggled, deliriously sleepy. Morgana moved to take Guinevere’s place, forgoing her usual touch to Guinevere’s waist to warn she was there. She kissed Athena’s forehead as well.
“Goodnight, baby girl,” she whispered.
“Nigh-nigh, Mummy,” Athena mumbled back.
“Goodnight,” Guinevere added softly. Athena murmured incoherently. Morgana rose from the bed and the two women left the room.
⧱⧱⧱ ⧱⧱⧱
Guinevere undressed and put on her nightgown. Morgana began to do the same. Guinevere caught her wrist and stopped her.
“Let me?” she asked, tentatively.
“You want to? You know you don’t have to. Not with what’s happened to you.” Guinevere smiled sadly.
“I want to. I still want to touch you, Morgana. I even want you to touch me, but it reminds me of– of… him. I can feel his hands where you touch me and–” Guinevere cut herself off, pressing a hand to her mouth.
Morgana ached desperately to wrap her arms around her shaking lover. She didn’t know what to do. Standing there, still, felt wrong. Reaching out to Guinevere felt worse. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides. Guinevere sobbed quietly; everything she did now seemed to be quiet. She caught her sobs in her palm, not letting them taste air. Her body shook with the heaving of her lungs.
Morgana stood in front of her. Tears built up behind her eyes; sobs lodged in her throat. She couldn’t stand it, seeing Guinevere suffer. Guinevere reached out and yanked Morgana forward, burrowing into the sorceress’ chest.
“Don’t hug back,” she muttered into Morgana’s bodice.
“Of course. Of course, my love. Whatever you want; whatever you need.” Guinevere dug her fingers into Morgana’s back, pressing them together. Morgana held her arms by her sides, desperate to keep Guinevere comfortable, safe. The queen cried for a long while, candles burning half-way down before she released her tight grip on Morgana.
“I love you,” she said, resting her chin on Morgana’s sternum, gazing into her sea green eyes. Morgana yearned to run her hands through Guinevere’s hair, to pull her close, to kiss her, anywhere and everywhere.
She didn’t.
“I love you too,” she murmured, instead.
“Can I dress you now?” Guinevere asked, cradling Morgana’s shoulder blades in her palms. Morgana nodded. Guinevere smiled, still sadly. She undid the eyelets on the dress without looking, years of practice making it easy. She peeled the dress from Morgana’s body. Morgana stepped out of it, now wearing only her shift. Guinevere eased her out of that as well. Her eyes traced the scar her brother had left. She trailed a finger down it.
“I hate that he did this to you.”
“My brother did worse to you,” Morgana said, darkly. Guinevere slid a hand into Morgana’s black tresses.
“We both have marks of strength born from it,” she said. Morgana swallowed thickly.
“You are going to make me cry.”
“Crying is a necessary release,” Guinevere said.
“When did you get so smart?” Morgana asked, teasingly. The smile on her face was a little more joyful. Guinevere gave her the same kind of smile in return.
“Maybe I’ve always been smart,” she retorted, smirking. Morgana nodded at that. Guinevere turned her head so she could rest her ear against Morgana’s chest. Her hands glided along the smooth skin of Morgana’s back.
“Do you know how pretty you are?”
“Very pretty?” Morgana asked softly. Guinevere smiled her melancholy smile again.
“Yes. Very.” Then she let go of Morgana and dressed her in a cotton nightgown. Guinevere crossed the room and got into bed.
“Would you like me to sleep in some other chambers? So I don’t accidentally touch you in the night,” Morgana asked.
“If you let me sleep on top of you, I don’t think I’ll feel bad,” Guinevere said.
“You tell me if it starts to be uncomfortable,” Morgana said, inserting importance into her tone. Guinevere nodded.
“Come here, please.”
“Yes, my love.” Morgana got under the blankets on the other side of the bed. Guinevere shuffled over and lay herself down on top of Morgana.
“Comfortable, love?” Morgana asked. Guinevere nodded.
⧱⧱⧱ ⧱⧱⧱
In the morning, Morgana’s chest ached and one of her arms was asleep. She wouldn’t trade it for the world. Guinevere shifted on top of her. She turned her head to make eye contact with Morgana.
“Good morning, Gwen,” the sorceress whispered.
“Good morning.”
“Did you sleep alright?” Guinevere nodded against Morgana’s breastbone. They fell into silence for a few moments. Guinevere sat up, pushing away from Morgana. Morgana sat up as well, keeping to her side of the bed.
“He kissed me,” Guinevere said, turning away from Morgana.
“Gwen, you don’t have to tell–”
“No. Listen.” Morgana shut her mouth and sat still. “He came into the chambers they gave me while I was sleeping. He kissed me and I pushed him away. He pushed me down and kissed me again. I pulled away again. He asked who I loved. I said you. He went away angry.”
“Gwen,” Morgana said, her voice cracking.
“He came back later,” Guinevere continued, ignoring Morgana. “He pinned me down and told me that I would like it when the curse was lifted. But there is no curse. I don’t remember how long it lasted. He fell asleep eventually. All the feeling seeped out of my body. I don’t know how long I lay there. You came into the room and I could breathe a little easier. You wouldn’t let him do it again.”
“No. I wouldn’t,” Morgana reassured softly. Guinevere didn’t answer. She sat completely still on the bed, staring at the far wall.
“I’m sorry I touched you,” Morgana added. “While you were getting dressed.” Guinevere turned to the side.
“I couldn’t do it myself,” Guinevere whispered. “I would’ve told you to stop if I didn’t like it.”
“But you shouldn’t have to. I should have asked.”
“You know better now.” Morgana nodded. She ached to reach out and wrap her arms around Guinevere.
“I will keep you safe, my love. I promise. Arthur won’t get close enough to even catch sight of you again,” Morgana swore.
“Thank you, Morgana.” Guinevere laid her head on Morgana’s shoulder.
“You don’t have to thank me. It’s what any good person would do.”
“I love you, Morgana,” Guinevere responded. “I want to thank you.”
“I love you too. We’ll get through this together, love.” Guinevere reached out and squeezed Morgana’s hand. Morgana’s heart swelled in her chest. She stroked her thumb against Guinevere’s hand and relished the moment of peace with her wife.