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“I’m going to give you a throne.”
“Arthur!” Gwen protested, ready to walk out. This was not something to joke about! But Morgana did not rise from the seat she’d taken after they’d enter the King’s private rooms.
Gwen couldn’t see her face, but from the direction of her head she and Merlin were very heavily focused on each other.
“No, Gwen, let me speak.” She subsided with a worried frown. She wasn’t sure she would like where this was going.
“I’m going to give you a throne,” Arthur repeated, pacing, “but it won’t be easy. The kingdom has been torn apart. It has not had a worthy King -- or Queen -- since well before its last King died. There is going to be a lot to rebuild. It may take destroying everyone and starting again. I don’t know anyone else more worthy than the two of you to do so.” He turned away to continue his pace, walking around Merlin’s chair to come back to them.
Gwen gripped the back of Morgana's chair stunned. She barely felt Morgana put a hand over it, pulling it down onto her own shoulder, as if she wanted that comfort too.
Everyone watched him for a long moment, waiting for what else he had to say. When nothing else was forthcoming Merlin sat forward.
“Essitir has been in the hands of tyrants and thieves for a very long time. Its people have been ignored if not mistreated for decades. A lot of the places are more like Ealdor than Camelot, or worse besides. So you’ll be fighting a lot of bandits that have had free reign over the lands. The sorcerers have either gone into hiding fearing for their lives or become some of the worst of the looters. The law is what they make for themselves and the people are suffering for it.”
“Lot is on the throne now,” Arthur jumped in, both women’s heads swinging towards him, their eyes wide. They had not known how dire the situation had become in their neighboring kingdom. “He is a man of ill repute, who thinks only of his own treasury. There is not much he will not do to fill his own gullet.” His fists clenched, pressing them into his hips. Gwen glanced down at Morgana. Her shoulders were back, and her chin tilted up like she’d already put on the crown. Gwen felt nerves tighten in her belly. They were going to do this, she knew. Morgana would not let them do otherwise. Her own heart would not let them do otherwise.
Arthur coming closer drew her attention. He must have seen it too when he looked at her. The triumph in his expression was all encompassing. And daunting on Gwen’s nerves. “We are going to go to war, my Ladies, and we are going to usurp Essitir.”
Gwen looked down at Morgana when she looked up at her. Her fingers squeezed around Gwen’s hand, her eyes bright and she turned back to her brother.
“The only question is,” Arthur said, stepping back, his face still alight, “who is going to be Queen?” He looked between them, mouth twitching.
“Don’t ask stupid questions, Arthur. Of course Gwen will be Queen.” As if it were that simple.
“What?” Gwen jolted. Morgana’s fingers laced through Gwen’s, pulling until Gwen moved around the chair so that her back were to the men.
“Of course you will.” She said, taking hold of Gwen’s other hand, bringing both up to press her lips to. “You will be Queen, and I will be the Princess Witch.”
“Are you sure, Morgana? You have wanted to be Queen--”
“This is a much better version of all my childish hopes. To bring that kingdom to prosperity I would have to take care of the magic first, and the people do not deserve to wait. They have waited long enough. To deal with all the sorcerers that would come, plus the bandits and councillors that would try to get in my way." Her head tilted back in scorn. "No, you, who have so much more patience than I, would be much more suited to running the kingdom. I--” Morgana pressed a kiss to each of Gwen’s hands, and lowered her head over them in a way that could not be taken as anything but a bow. “I am much more suited for dealing with the idiot men who refuse to bow to my Queen.”
Morgana lifted her head again, eyes sparkling with desire and intensity. There was to be no other future for her now, Gwen knew. She was going to be Queen.
“Told you,” Merlin’s voice said, ruining the moment. Both women turned to look at them, glares vicious. Merlin noticed first, smiling sheepishly, and jabbing an elbow into Arthur’s side. Gwen stifled a chuckle at the way Arthur stepped away from his warlock. “Sorry,” Merlin shrugged, “Arthur said that Morgana would want to be Queen, but I knew that Gwen would be the one.”
“Oh?” Morgana asked, her voice mild in a way that spoke of danger. “And how did you know that, Merlin?”
“Because Arthur and Gwen are the sun,” he said with the usual unaware bluster that made her wonder. He stood, stepping towards his King, though he did not look away from Morgana. “And we, Morgana, are the moon.”