It is not until they are safely returned to Arthur's bedchambers, alone and wrapped in each others arms with a warm cup of tea, that she ceases to be the elegant Queen Guinevere and becomes Gwen once more. The curtains close off the windows to the rest of the world, and they are free to be themselves, as vulnerable and scared as they wish, without anyone looking up to them for guidance.

Arthur doesn't realize until Merlin has left them alone, Mordred having already retreated to the armory, how affected Gwen has been by all of this. In public, where there are people depending on her to be strong, she is, and she never gives the hint that she is frightened or angry. There is always a caring smile to bestow upon everyone, always the calmness before the battles, always the gentle confidence of the Servant Queen, and she is loved by all for it. She even manages to stay strong in front of Merlin, who is, Arthur concedes, around them almost all the time.

But she cannot hold up the façade forever, and, though it doesn't break often, it breaks now, once they are alone, as Arthur can only remember it doing a few times before.

She survived the entire ride back to Camelot with the calm, coolness of a damsel rescued, and even managed to laugh at Merlin's ill-timed jokes, though Arthur had seen the pain behind her eyes the entire time. She had smiled at Mordred and thanked him for coming to her rescue, but she is not a good enough actress for Arthur.

He can see that, despite their best endeavors, they were too late. They had failed to save her in time at the Dark Tower, and this was the result.

Merlin has just shut the door to their rooms, leaving them to their privacy after asking if there was anything else they needed, and Arthur is strangely grateful to the servant for that, for Gwen's sake. He wraps his arms protectively around her thin shoulders and pulls her against his chest, the silk white bed sheets tangling around them, the tea, barely drunk, spilling on the warm red blankets.

Everything red. It is the first time he felt dislike for the color, filling the room, filling their lives, filling Camelot. Closing in around them and slowly tightening, like Morgana's plans...

Arthur doesn't care that they've spilled the tea. Merlin will send them to be cleaned in the morning. Right now, the only thing that matters is that he has his Gwen back, safe and alive and everything he remembered her to be. No longer is she the distant agent of Morgana, pretending to love him while secretly plotting his ruin.

He is glad that Merlin did not tell him the truth until a few days ago, for he isn't certain how he could have dealt with it, dealt with knowing that his wife hadn't loved him, even forced as the feelings were by the witch.

She's crying in his arms now, her tears staining his shirt, but he doesn't care. They sit like that for a long while, comforted by one another, and for that moment there is nothing in the world but the two of them, reunited at last for the first time since Morgana had stolen Gwen away to that tower of evil.

"Shh, Gwen, it's all right," he whispers, running gentle fingers through her beautiful dark hair as he leans back against the headboard of the bed. He wants to memorize every last feature of his beloved once more, now that she has returned to him, wants to always remember the gentle waves in her hair and the dimple by her cheek, the dimple he would love to see now. Because right now, she seems like almost a different person, changed from the simple Guinevere that he remembers of old.

He hasn't seen a genuine smile from her in so long it almost makes him ill.

Gwen sniffs, doesn't lift her head when she responds into his shirt, "No, it's not. Everything that has happened lately has been my fault, Arthur," and he can barely hear her from the way she is mumbling these words, but he understand nonetheless. Understands because he knows Gwen well, knows that she blames herself entirely for something that wasn't at all her fault.

And she is wrong to blame herself. If anything, she should be blaming him. He wasn't there for her. If he had only gotten to the Tower sooner- he cuts off that thought before they are both wallowing in their self-pity.

"No, Gwen." Arthur places his index finger under her chin and lifts it gingerly until he can see her doe brown eyes. They're filled to the brims, but he can see them now, and that is the important thing. "None of this has been your fault. Morgana-"

"How can you say that?" She starts to pull away from him, but he won't relinquish his hold on her, not after the fear of being separated from her forever. Not after she tried to push him away at the lake, not after she screamed at him that she wanted him dead. He knows the words were Morgana's and not hers, but they sting anyways, even now. He won't ever let go of her again, he promises himself.

"I've killed people. Innocent people, and I didn't even care. I...tried to have you killed. More than once. I wanted Morgana to be the Queen. I-" her words trail off as she erupts into tears once more, burying her face in her hands.

"Gwen," he says, gently reprimanding. "You've done none of those things. That was all Morgana. She forced you to do those things with the..." He can't think of what the thing was called, the thing Morgana used to control his love. He swallows and continues on, hoping she won't notice, "And those thoughts that you had while under her influence, those feelings, they weren't yours. They were hers. You've no reason to be sorry for anything, and no one blames you for anything that has happened."

Gwen bites her lip. Then, as if the reality of her brother's death has just hit her, she collapses against Arthur, in tears once more. "Elyan!" she lets out a strangled cry, the noise breaking Arthur's heart. She sobs into Arthur's shirt and he pulls the blankets more tightly around them, practically cocooning them, but Arthur wishes he could do more.

Wishes for the first time that he had some sort of magic that could heal her aching heart. The thought is treason, he knows this well, but he allows the traitorous thought to swell in his mind anyway.

But Arthur can only comfort her and wish that Morgana were here to answer for doing something like this to Gwen, to someone she had once cared for as a friend. He can, if he must, live with Morgana wanting his throne, though he cannot understand her hatred for him, and he can pretend that her strong grasp on sorcery, after living for years in Uther's court, does not terrify him. But hurting Gwen like this...

If Morgana were here, he could kill her with his own hands.

"Elyan died a brave and noble death," Arthur whispers to her, knowing the words are not enough, but he has never been good at telling those he cares about what he truly thinks. "He died protecting you, and for that honor I would gladly have taken his place."

Arthur strokes Gwen's hair and leans his forehead against her own in comfort. They both close there eyes and stay like that for a while. For how long, Arthur doesn't know, but until Gwen's tears have all dried up and she has stopped shaking like a leaf.

Finally, Gwen pulls away from him, wiping her eyes on his tunic and heaving a long, gentle sigh that somehow seems to convey a calm that Arthur certainly doesn't feel.

She picks up one of the tea cups, half of it spilled across the bed, and lifts the rim of the cup to her lips, her nose wrinkling at the slightly bitter taste. Bitter, just as everything has tasted since Morgana dragged her to the Dark Tower. She realizes vaguely that this is her favorite tea, that Merlin probably had it made especially for her, and another wave of guilt runs through her because she can't even enjoy this little thing.

But there is something else there, a feeling that she cannot totally understand, that she knows Arthur will not understand. It rattles her entire being and she hates that she feels it, but after being trapped in Morgana's head all this time, the feeling will not leave her.

Arthur sees the distressed look on her face and leans forward, instantly the compassionate knight in shining armor that she loves. His lower lip juts out in concern and he lifts a thumb to her face, brushing the hair from her eyes.

"What is it?" he asks gently, and she notices for the first time that there are circles under his eyes, dark brown circles that she should have noticed before, a testament to how tired he is, how worried he has been for her recently. She also notices the tired wrinkles setting themselves into his skin, wrinkles that were never there before, and despite his words that no one blamed her, that everything was Morgana's fault, she knew her betrayal must have broken him.

For the first time, she wants to reminisce about what happened while Morgana was controlling her, wants to know how Arthur learned of her betrayal. It is the only thing she wants to ask him, but the one thing she dare not even speak of.

Gwen takes his hand in hers and holds it against her cheek, blinking back her tears.

"I..." She knows he will not understand, yet she shares anyway because she needs to sort out the feelings herself. "I pity her, Arthur."

Arthur sits up a little at these words, greatly disturbed. "Sorry?" He looks as though he wants to call Merlin back in here, wants to knock her out again and drag her back to the oasis for another dunk.

Gwen gives him a small smile, more saddened by the comical expression on his face than amused. "Morgana. I was...while she was controlling me, it felt almost as if she were inside my head, as if her thoughts were my own. Everything I did, I faced with feelings that weren't my own, like you said. Everything felt so...hollow. I didn't care about anyone or anything except for Morgana, for getting what she wanted. I was filled with bitterness, for this need to hate everyone around me regardless of who they were. I can't help but wonder if that's how she feels all the time. It was so...lonely," she shudders at the memories.

Arthur redraws his arms around her, pulling Gwen close and laying his chin on her hair. He doesn't respond for a while, so long Gwen thinks that perhaps he fell asleep sitting up and perhaps it would be nice to wake up in the morning like this, with his arms protecting her from the nightmares. But then she thinks that it would also be rather uncomfortable to sleep like this.

At least it is more comfortable than when she attempted sleep in the Tower.

She only wishes she had those arms around her while she was in the Dark Tower.

Then Arthur speaks. "Gaius said that the victims of...whatever that was that she did to you are caused to be hollow, like empty vessels for the sorcerer's use. There's only a small bit of them inside."

A pause. "Is that how you saved me?" she whispers finally. Apparently Arthur has no wish to explore these newfound feelings of sympathy for Morgana.

"Yes. At least, I think so. There was some part of you that still loved me, at least, and the sorceress who helped us said this was important to saving you." He falls silent then, as if deep in thought, and then suddenly feels her leaving his arms, lying back against the pillows. He doesn't join her, not at first. He is exhausted, but he has no wish to sleep just now.

"Arthur," she whispers hoarsely, because it needs to be said, and he turns to look at her because he can never refuse that voice. Her eyes are wide with sorrow as she reaches one hand out to him. He takes it, lies down beside her. "I will never stop loving you, no matter what happens to us. No matter how powerful the magic that pulls us apart, you will always have my heart, Arthur Pendragon."

He turns to look at her, sees her heavenly face framed by her hair and her pillow, and wishes that this moment could last forever. The contemplative look on her face reminds him of the moment when he first kissed her, in her home, and he knows that, for him, she will never stop being that girl who taught him humility and how to really love someone.

"And you mine," he answers softly. He wants to continue, to say all the things he is thinking about her now, to tell her how beautiful she is and how fortunate he is to have her as a Queen, but only one thought can enter his mind. How can she possibly pity Morgana, after all the horrible things the Witch has done to them, has done to her?

As if she can read what he is thinking on his face, Gwen leans forward and answers, "She is your half-sister, Arthur. She wasn't always evil. And even if I was just some hollow tool for her, I could see her emotions clearly when we spoke. She doesn't seem like the same girl anymore, not our sweet Morgana. I could see her anger, her bitterness towards you and towards Camelot. That's all she has now, that desire for revenge and for your throne." She leans forward and takes both of his hands in her own. "But we have so much more than that. Even if we were," she smiles at the memory this conjures, "simple farmers, we would still have so much more than she could ever have as Queen. Even if she did somehow take Camelot, what then? She has no purpose beyond that, not after she has robbed herself of her bitterness and hatred. We have our love for each other, Arthur, and that is worth all of the kingdoms in the world."

Arthur bends down, his lips a mere breath from hers, and smiles. "You have a good heart, Guinevere. You're right, of course." He isn't quite sure he would describe his feelings for Morgana now as pity, because her bitterness doesn't excuse everything she has done, but he understands.

Their lips touch, gently, and Arthur hopes that someday, Morgana will understand as well. Understand why, even after everything she has done to them and they have done to her, he can't bring himself to hate her as she hates him.

THE END

I don't know about anyone else, but I was bothered by the fact that after everything that happened to Gwen while she was under Morgana's control, she seemed perfectly fine once she was cured, and it was pretty much never brought up again. This was my response. Please leave a review and tell me what you thought of it.