Ficpost: Five People Gwen Trusts...
Aug. 8th, 2010 10:57 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mari4212Title: Five People Gwen Trusts, and One She Doesn't.
Fandom: Merlin
Ships: small hints of future Gwen/Arthur, but predominantly gen.
Rating: PG
Spoilers: None past he end of season one.
Summary: *looks up at title* Do you really need more than that?
Warnings: Mention of canonical character death, trust issues.
Wordcount: >800
Author's Notes: Written for the Awesome Characters of Color Meme.
Gwen gives her trust rarely, but when she does, she does so with her whole heart, with very little input from her mind.
She trusted and loved Morgana, the first truly close friend she’d ever made. The two of them had bonded the first time they’d met, as two girls both still grieving over the loss of a beloved parent. Gwen had lost her mother months before, and Morgana had newly arrived in Uther’s court after the death of her father. They had cried together, at first. And later, they learned to laugh again together, to confide their small secrets. Morgana learned how to fight from Arthur, and passed it on to Gwen when they practiced together in unused storerooms. Gwen brought Morgana her spare dress on occasion, and the two of them would slip out of the castle and wander through town in disguise.
Morgana was there when Tom died, the only one whom Gwen felt comfortable pouring out the full force of her grief to. The one she trusted to be a bulwark in the storm.
***
Gwen trusted Merlin, because it’s impossible not to do so. Every emotion and thought that goes through his head is displayed out on that open face, reflected in those wide eyes of his. Merlin flounders haplessly at the thought of the subtleties and subterfuges that form events within the court, and is just as clueless when it comes to the intricacies of the various rankings of the servants. Things she has learned to weigh and judge with grace in her years serving at the castle, Merlin cannot even see.
Instead, he blunders as a bundle of loyalty and honest friendliness that she can’t help but smile at. She always knows exactly where she stands with Merlin, and it is a comfort to know that he wants the best for all his friends.
***
She trusts Gaius as a mentor and teacher. His care and his insight have rarely failed to calm her anxieties and help her solve her problems. He has sat up with her on long vigils by Morgana’s bedside when her dreams troubled her. When her father took ill, three years ago, he’d sent her home with medicines and instructions, enough to help Tom pull through the worst of it within a few nights.
Gaius was like the north star, giving her guidance and direction throughout the tumultuous years of adolescence, when she surfaced from Morgana’s troubles and increasing spats with Arthur only to face what her own body had gotten up to without her paying much attention. In many ways, he’d acted as a second parent to all three of them growing up at court, with Morgana’s father dead, Uther so busy, and Tom often working in the smithy late into the evenings to provide for her.
***
She’d trusted her father to always be there for her, to love her and want the best for her. And he had done so, in so many ways, until the very end. He never let a day go by without making sure she knew how very much he loved her, how much he wanted her to be happy and valued for all that she was.
She’d trusted his hands to fit around hers, broad, strong, seamed with calluses and scars from his work, but warm and gentle despite it all. She’d trusted the sound of his voice, the one timbre that made her feel like everything was right with the world. She’d trusted in his dreams, as high as the skies above Camelot and twice as impressive.
She never realized how much she’d come to trust in his always being there until he suddenly wasn’t.
***
She wanted to trust Arthur so very much. Wanted to trust that he’d live out the promise that she saw in those brief flashes. Wanted to trust in the king Merlin so obviously believed he’d be.
She couldn’t, not quite yet. She knew far too well that to trust Arthur to be the man she hoped he would be would end up risking her whole heart in the process, and she couldn’t bear the risk of being wrong there. Not yet.
***
She has never trusted the king. Or, really, the majority of the nobles. Those with power tend to not see those beneath them as real people, and thus, they don’t see them as worth keeping promises to. She is too young to remember them, but she has heard the stories her father told, of the time before the ban on magic, when it was as common to find a man or woman selling minor magical trinkets or potions as it is to find a baker or potter. When there were charms and amulets to keep a well clean of impurities, and fires safely banked. When the king had offered sorcerers and witches his protection as citizens of Camelot.
She knew too well, from her own bitter memories, what had happened to the people responsible for those small charms and potions when the king changed his mind.
Fandom: Merlin
Ships: small hints of future Gwen/Arthur, but predominantly gen.
Rating: PG
Spoilers: None past he end of season one.
Summary: *looks up at title* Do you really need more than that?
Warnings: Mention of canonical character death, trust issues.
Wordcount: >800
Author's Notes: Written for the Awesome Characters of Color Meme.
Gwen gives her trust rarely, but when she does, she does so with her whole heart, with very little input from her mind.
She trusted and loved Morgana, the first truly close friend she’d ever made. The two of them had bonded the first time they’d met, as two girls both still grieving over the loss of a beloved parent. Gwen had lost her mother months before, and Morgana had newly arrived in Uther’s court after the death of her father. They had cried together, at first. And later, they learned to laugh again together, to confide their small secrets. Morgana learned how to fight from Arthur, and passed it on to Gwen when they practiced together in unused storerooms. Gwen brought Morgana her spare dress on occasion, and the two of them would slip out of the castle and wander through town in disguise.
Morgana was there when Tom died, the only one whom Gwen felt comfortable pouring out the full force of her grief to. The one she trusted to be a bulwark in the storm.
***
Gwen trusted Merlin, because it’s impossible not to do so. Every emotion and thought that goes through his head is displayed out on that open face, reflected in those wide eyes of his. Merlin flounders haplessly at the thought of the subtleties and subterfuges that form events within the court, and is just as clueless when it comes to the intricacies of the various rankings of the servants. Things she has learned to weigh and judge with grace in her years serving at the castle, Merlin cannot even see.
Instead, he blunders as a bundle of loyalty and honest friendliness that she can’t help but smile at. She always knows exactly where she stands with Merlin, and it is a comfort to know that he wants the best for all his friends.
***
She trusts Gaius as a mentor and teacher. His care and his insight have rarely failed to calm her anxieties and help her solve her problems. He has sat up with her on long vigils by Morgana’s bedside when her dreams troubled her. When her father took ill, three years ago, he’d sent her home with medicines and instructions, enough to help Tom pull through the worst of it within a few nights.
Gaius was like the north star, giving her guidance and direction throughout the tumultuous years of adolescence, when she surfaced from Morgana’s troubles and increasing spats with Arthur only to face what her own body had gotten up to without her paying much attention. In many ways, he’d acted as a second parent to all three of them growing up at court, with Morgana’s father dead, Uther so busy, and Tom often working in the smithy late into the evenings to provide for her.
***
She’d trusted her father to always be there for her, to love her and want the best for her. And he had done so, in so many ways, until the very end. He never let a day go by without making sure she knew how very much he loved her, how much he wanted her to be happy and valued for all that she was.
She’d trusted his hands to fit around hers, broad, strong, seamed with calluses and scars from his work, but warm and gentle despite it all. She’d trusted the sound of his voice, the one timbre that made her feel like everything was right with the world. She’d trusted in his dreams, as high as the skies above Camelot and twice as impressive.
She never realized how much she’d come to trust in his always being there until he suddenly wasn’t.
***
She wanted to trust Arthur so very much. Wanted to trust that he’d live out the promise that she saw in those brief flashes. Wanted to trust in the king Merlin so obviously believed he’d be.
She couldn’t, not quite yet. She knew far too well that to trust Arthur to be the man she hoped he would be would end up risking her whole heart in the process, and she couldn’t bear the risk of being wrong there. Not yet.
***
She has never trusted the king. Or, really, the majority of the nobles. Those with power tend to not see those beneath them as real people, and thus, they don’t see them as worth keeping promises to. She is too young to remember them, but she has heard the stories her father told, of the time before the ban on magic, when it was as common to find a man or woman selling minor magical trinkets or potions as it is to find a baker or potter. When there were charms and amulets to keep a well clean of impurities, and fires safely banked. When the king had offered sorcerers and witches his protection as citizens of Camelot.
She knew too well, from her own bitter memories, what had happened to the people responsible for those small charms and potions when the king changed his mind.