camelotremix (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
camelotremix) wrote2017-06-10 09:26 pm
camelotremix) wrote2017-06-10 09:26 pm
Entry tags:
FIC: All this mean I by Love (the out of time remix)
Title: All this mean I by Love (the out of time remix)
Creator:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
claudine
Work Type: fic
Work URL: http://archiveofourown.org/works/10972908
Remixee Name: glim /clockfraught
Link to Work Remixed: http://archiveofourown.org/works/73489
Pairings: Gwen/Morgana
Length: 749
Rating: Mature
Warnings: None
Notes: Thank you very much to everyone who encouraged and enabled me to sign-up for Remix! Dear glim, you have a wealth of wonderful fic, and I only wish I've done some justice to your beautiful prose.
Summary: When morning comes, Morgana wakes. Her dreams are oft only half-remembered, a wispy thing that disappears into the heat of noon, chased off by the noise and the scent of life in the castle.
Right now, she is still ensconced in the warmth of a body beside her, a coverlet cocooning them in their private world.
“Did you sleep well?” Gwen whispers into her ear.
“I dreamt,” Morgana says. She reaches out, as if to catch the remnants of the dream. Gwen catches her hand and slips her fingers in between hers. “I dreamt of a life where you were not wed to my brother.”
Creator:
claudineWork Type: fic
Work URL: http://archiveofourown.org/works/10972908
Remixee Name: glim /
clockfraughtLink to Work Remixed: http://archiveofourown.org/works/73489
Pairings: Gwen/Morgana
Length: 749
Rating: Mature
Warnings: None
Notes: Thank you very much to everyone who encouraged and enabled me to sign-up for Remix! Dear glim, you have a wealth of wonderful fic, and I only wish I've done some justice to your beautiful prose.
Summary: When morning comes, Morgana wakes. Her dreams are oft only half-remembered, a wispy thing that disappears into the heat of noon, chased off by the noise and the scent of life in the castle.
Right now, she is still ensconced in the warmth of a body beside her, a coverlet cocooning them in their private world.
“Did you sleep well?” Gwen whispers into her ear.
“I dreamt,” Morgana says. She reaches out, as if to catch the remnants of the dream. Gwen catches her hand and slips her fingers in between hers. “I dreamt of a life where you were not wed to my brother.”