Gwen/Morgana set after season two. Morgana is back in Camelot.

Disclaimer: I don't own BBC's Merlin, I make no money with this.

In Sunlight

They lie, naked, side by side, on her bed, sunlight falling in through the large windows, and the scent of flowers Gwen brought earlier hangs over the room and clings to Gwen's hands; Morgana can breaths in the summer air by kissing her palms, and she does, her mind elsewhere. Dreams are flooding through her head, of open space and free magic pouring from her hands like blood, and endless. And Gwen, Gwen who's tracing her lips with a finger, as if unfamiliar with their shape, Gwen is not absent (though she can't find her) because such a thing she would not dream, neither asleep nor awake, it is unthinkable.

"Are you alright?" Gwen asks her, watching her impassive face for some sign, smiling kindly and a bit unsurely; her finger has stilled on her lip.

"I'm fine," Morgana assures her, with a forced smile, and kisses her finger lightly. "Just a bit tired."

Gwen smiles again, not convinced, and Morgana wants to tell her look what I can do and make lights dance for her and fire rise, and we will kill the person who killed both our fathers, who speaks of protection yet will turn on us at a first sign of magic...

But she doesn't; instead she turns from her back to her side to face her better and pushes their bodies closer together and closes her eyes as their lips meet.

Irrationally, part of her resents her for not knowing, for her confused kindness and her own silence, and maybe she resents her too (for her briskness, her distance, of late?), because there's an unusual aggressiveness to her kiss, which she has learnt to read, sometimes, as anger, and part of her, distantly, is glad; their teeth clash briefly as Gwen deepens their kiss, and she holds on to her with both hands, while Gwen's elbows push into her sides, their bodies flush against each other, fitting together perfectly still. It makes her moan and stops her from wondering why Gwen hasn't talked to her; there have been silences between them before but never this long, and even as she traces the inside of Gwen's mouth with her tongue she feels like there's something missing.

Later she watches Gwen, dressed now, wander through the room, recollecting her own hastily discarded gown and the pieces of jewellery scattered over the floor.

She can't tell her. She's been entangled in magic twice already and almost got burnt at the stake for it; it would be selfish. She'll tell her after. Soon. She'll still be there. And she'll understand. Already, thanks to Morgause's gift, she is no longer waking her up at night with screams carried over from her horrible dreams. She's moving forward.

"My lady?" Gwen says, when she finds her staring at her, stopping in mid-movement with a necklace in her hands, and looks down at herself as if expecting to find herself somehow at fault. "Is something the matter?"

Gwen can tell when she's lying, and maybe that's what made distance her only option. She tries it anyway.

"Nothing," she assures her, with a smile, and stretches out on the bed in the sunlight. "Everything's fine."

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