[merlin] hurt - merlin|morgana|nimueh
So... still not back. (omg i miss graphics SO much!). But I'm tking a little break out of my break (lol) to give you some fic which i shouldn't have written in the first place, but it was so compelling I couldn't stop myself!. Anyway, hope you like it guys!!
Also, the request post is still open, specially considering that charmingways turned one year last 17th *does happy dance* Let's consider this little break a present for the comm & myself (dork moment!).
Fandom: Merlin
Characters: Merlin/Nimueh/Morgana
Title: Hurt.
Rating: R(PG15)
Warnings: soft lime. threesome. femslash.
Word Count: 2417 words (o.O!!)
Summary: When she dreams, he is there. When she dreams, they are not alone. When she dreams, they are definitely not apart. Post 1x13.
Notes: Thank you to awesome fortassetu for the beta-ing (alskask ♥)!! All remaining mistakes are all mine (which i hope it's not to bad!). Also, I hadn't realized how long it was until now. It's probably the largest thing in English I have written.
She is dancing. Like a fairy she walks over grass without touching it, floating in the air with the elegance of a Lady. She smiles and waves and there’s happiness in her eyes. She is free. Free of hate, remorse, guilt and resentment.
She is dancing under the sun and the stars, and the sky mixes in a tribute of colours for her; only her, in the middle of the green field, in the ecstasy of her movements. Her eyes are closed as she approaches him. Her hands are soft and warm and move over his skin like delicate feathers. She smiles and he rejoices in her joy.
When her eyes open, the world comes to a stop. Her fierce blue eyes pierce him, icing his heart, taking his breath away. The sky is gloomy as her soul and he knows he has never seen such a beautiful angel of darkness. He fights to breathe, while she caresses his cheek with her hand. Cold. Dead. Unique.
“It hurt you more than it did to me,” she whispers, laying her lips on his. There’s fire and ice. There’s hate and forgiveness, and he is not sure what to think, what to do, except, maybe, kissing back. He breathes into her lips, he lives in the moment. And then, he is awake. Panting, blushed, his body responding in ways he doesn’t understand to memories that wash away as seconds pass.
When he is finally completely conscious, his body slick and tired, the dream is nothing but a blurred memory in the back of his mind.
**
Morgana dreams of future, past and present. She fears them all. She knows since the day Arthur almost died that the world she knew was coming to an end, everything she knew about what was, what is and what would be became a mixture, a blurry line crossed by humans and magic. She fears the result every morning, every breath she takes, every dream she has.
She gets up, her dream vivid and fresh. Blood in her hands, her belly and her legs. She is not scared of it anymore and yet stills fears the source. She bathes with ease. There’s no pain in her body as in her soul. A black cloud covers her hopes and dreams. She hears a song in her head, lyrics and voice that come from dreams and nightmares. It’s a sweet melody that almost pushes her back to sleep. It talks about all that was; the magic, the lies, the pain and the hurt; the broken promises that never were, the hopes that came to a halt. They are words of love, of guidance, and they talk to her. Asleep and awake.
**
There’s a river she likes to play with. It is far away from the crowed cities, in the border of the Kingdom, surrounded by forest and green, filled with magic and soft sounds. She sings a song to the earth, to the gods and priests. She dances with her feet naked, letting magic fill her. She is not corrupted. She is not afraid. She is only fifteen years old. Her name is Nimueh.
**
Merlin is silent most of the time. Arthur is worried, Gwen is worried, Gaius is worried. Morgana is not. She smiles at him sometimes, when she knows nobody is watching, he doesn’t smile back, but he nods and a glimpse of light cover his eyes.
Ghosts of lives and deaths cover his soul, and she can see them as clear as water, as the air that surrounds him becomes hot and cold at the same time. When she dreams, he is there. When she dreams, they are not alone. When she dreams, they are definitely not apart.
**
The night is clear and warm as he walks into the courtyard. The moon shines in the sky and the stars seem to dance at each of his steps. There’s music in the air but he knows only he can hear it. It’s magic, pure, powerful magic. It’s the earth calling him and he can’t avoid it.
His feet take him far from the castle and the guards eye him with worry but don’t say a word, they just nod in acknowledge and let him be. He only stops when he reaches the border of the woods. There is nothing to light the way, only darkness and danger, but he doesn’t need to go inside. He walks his ways over the edge for what it seems ages, unsure of what he is looking for.
It takes him what seems an eternity to arrive to his destiny. It’s far away from the castle and the night is full and alive. He can see Camelot rising in front of him, great and magnificent, asking for love and forgiveness, surrounded by the same magic the King despises so much. For a moment, he smiles in wonder. But then, he focuses his eyes in the figure that faces him. She wears a dark cloak and her features are hidden, but it’s definitely a woman, and he doesn’t need to be told to know she’s been waiting.
“It was about time, Merlin,” she smiles at him, softly, warm. “I was about to go back.”
“You wouldn’t have, my lady,” he says, realisation flooding him. No lies, no secrets and everything is clear. He knows. She knows. And right now, it’s all he needs.
“No, maybe not.”
**
She plays with toys, mortal, puppets and she smiles. She is free and chained but she doesn’t really mind. She is not there but is everywhere. Following them, crushing them, melting them. She wants them. She wants him, for everything they could have been. She wants her, for everything she’ll let them be.
“It hurt you more.” Words echo in the air, and then she laughs.
**
They met in silence and he learns what it is to smile again while he teaches her. He caresses her skin with magic and his eyes light on gold. She laughs, like if life came back to her and the ghost that hunts her nights fled away while they are together. Nobody knows the extent of their relationship, but they know it doesn’t go unnoticed. They don’t have the strength to mind.
He kisses her sometimes, under the moonlight, in secret, she caresses his cheeks and sings a song he remembers hearing before. She talks to him of destiny, and the word doesn’t sound corrupted or evil in her lips. She talks to him about future and past, about happiness and horror.
She whispers about forgiveness and he swears there’s something he is missing. She shuts him up with her lips.
**
He dreams again of the Lady. She is beautiful, a little goddess offered to him. She dances like the last time, and this time, he remembers. The skin, the fire, the ice and the cold. He remembers her lips, her hands, the song and the dancing. He remembers her warning and feels like crying. However, it’s not the same and she doesn’t seem to care. She dances, her feet guiding her through crystalline water.
She is not alone.
He is marvelled, prettified but the enchantment the two women have on him. The second one is easier to recognize. She looks younger, freer, not haunted as she does in real life. Her dark hair falls on her shoulder with ease and her eyes look at him, pleading. She is dancing too, but her grace is taunting and severe. Her childish movements don’t seem out of place, in the grass, between him and the Lady. Morgana is as pure as his dreams let her be; she smiles at him, happy.
“It hurt you more, Merlin,” says the Lady, and Merlin fixes his eyes on her as her dance stops. He recognizes her then, but he is unable to move, think or do anything rather than watch. He is a prisoner of his own dream. The woman, the witch, walks with ease and lust towards Morgana, who doesn’t seem to be worried and looks at him with a smile in her face. Her eyes shout ‘it’s ok,’ but he isn’t sure he can believe so. Nimueh’s hands finally reach Morgana’s shoulders, and her skin glows under her touch.
He feels the heat, the want, the need and wants to cry. When the witch’s lips touch Morgana’s neck, he bends, feeling as if was he who was under her touch, under her power. His eyes are still locked with Morgana’s, who seems to sing a song for him. The one that Nimueh had sang all the way before.
‘It hurt you more,’ the words echo in his head. Piercing it, hurting and icing his soul. He is incapable of fighting back and somehow, he can’t be sure he wants to.
**
Morgana knows this feeling, the one that says everything is fine, the one that tells her she is on the right path, no fear, no lies. This is what her dreams want, this is what she wants. There’s none of them without the other, she knows that know.
She wishes she had had the time to explain him so.
**
He is consumed. His eyes don’t leave Morgana’s face, the one that comes to him, and suddenly it’s only centimetres away. “It’s alright, Merlin,” she says with soothing voice. He can feel Morgana breathe over him, and the touch of Nimueh’s hand on his torso as she leads them towards Morgana’s breast. “It all right, it won’t hurt you… I know.”
It hurt you more. It hurt you more. It hurt you more. The words echo in his mind, but he can’t make sense of them. He trusts Morgana with his life, he knows that, but Nimueh’s presence is intoxicating and his mind is blurry and confused.
He can’t move or breathe; all he does is look at Morgana while feeling Nimueh’s piercing eyes on him. He is torn between anger and want and when Morgana’s lips find his, all he can do is answer back. It his body, it his magic, all he was and will be what ask for so. He leans to her, and Nimueh’s hands fill the space between their bodies, moving, caressing. He feels her breath in his neck as she bites the skin in Morgana’s shoulders, and he feels the shock in his spine as her hands take turns between Morgana and him.
He doesn’t stop; he kisses Morgana fiercely, urgently. It’s not easy at first, they keep pushing each other until they find a rhythm and everything seems to fall in place. Everything that follows seems the only rational path to go.
**
There’s a soft white cloud flying in the sky. It’s lonely, but pure, and soft like cotton. She watches it pass in awe. The world moves around her and she moves with it, playing, turning it. A wicked smile spread across her face. Her hands move over water, images of events she is not meant to presence flooding in front of her. She tastes the smell, the flavour, the skin and the heat of what was hers and it’s theirs too.
She is better now.
It hurt him more.
**
When he opens his eyes, all he feels is grass and an emptiness he never knew he could have. The sky is bright and clear above his head. He head spins, and his stomach hurts, but what makes him awake is the strong smell of blood. He feels the slick of sweat on his body, and when he looks at himself, he sees the red mixed in his skin. He is naked in what seems to be the middle of nowhere. At his side, Morgana sleeps dressed in blood.
He stands and kneels at her side immediately, trying to push the memories of his dream out of his head. His hand trace Morgana’s body, looking for injuries, but there’s nothing there, and her breath is normal. Confusion is all he has; questions without answers.
And then she is smiling.
“Merlin,” she moans, and he leans to her. She opens her eyes, blue, green and gold mixing in one and he is afraid of the consequence of actions he isn’t even aware of doing. Then, she kisses him. It’s bitter and sweet at the same time. It taste like dry blood and warm skin. “Merlin,” she begs.
He remembers. But this time is not a dream. She shifts under his weight and he asks if she is ok, her only response is to shut his lips with hers.
**
Morgana leaves in the night; she is not alone, she can feel Nimueh in her mind, pushing, caressing, her hands on her hips, her lips on her neck. She feels Merlin’s magic tangled in her toes, shooting pain and love through her.
She doesn’t look back at Camelot. She understands now. There’s no longer blood on her dreams or her body, it just lives inside her. As the memories, as Nimueh, as Merlin and his magic.
They are all connected and now that she knows why Nimueh came to them, it’s time to answer the call.
But she knows best, and as a tear traces her cheek, and Merlin's eyes come alive in her mind, she remembers that the truth is that it hurt them all.
**
Merlin looks the horizon from his window. He sees her leaving in the dark even though nobody else can. He feels the life that pulses in her.
It’s been the three of them since ever. Life brings death and death brings life. It was a lesson he learned too late.
**
There’s a girl that dances, under the sky, in their dreams. She is five years old, and magic dances with her, surrounding, pleading. It’s her and magic, green eyes than laugh in gold. Blue fingers that caress the skin in cold.
They wake panting. Away from each other, but never apart. They feel their kisses, the burn of the skin and they look for her. The girl that never was but always will be.
“It hurt us all,” she says to the air, not sure who she is talking to. She seeks for the usual blood, but finds nothing and figures that there’s nothing common about their situation right now. There’s confusion and magic in her soul. There’s magic in the boy that lies forgotten in the castle that was once hers. “It hurt us all,” she repeats.
♠♠♠
Concrit = ♥
Also, the request post is still open, specially considering that charmingways turned one year last 17th *does happy dance* Let's consider this little break a present for the comm & myself (dork moment!).
Fandom: Merlin
Characters: Merlin/Nimueh/Morgana
Title: Hurt.
Rating: R(PG15)
Warnings: soft lime. threesome. femslash.
Word Count: 2417 words (o.O!!)
Summary: When she dreams, he is there. When she dreams, they are not alone. When she dreams, they are definitely not apart. Post 1x13.
Notes: Thank you to awesome fortassetu for the beta-ing (alskask ♥)!! All remaining mistakes are all mine (which i hope it's not to bad!). Also, I hadn't realized how long it was until now. It's probably the largest thing in English I have written.
She is dancing. Like a fairy she walks over grass without touching it, floating in the air with the elegance of a Lady. She smiles and waves and there’s happiness in her eyes. She is free. Free of hate, remorse, guilt and resentment.
She is dancing under the sun and the stars, and the sky mixes in a tribute of colours for her; only her, in the middle of the green field, in the ecstasy of her movements. Her eyes are closed as she approaches him. Her hands are soft and warm and move over his skin like delicate feathers. She smiles and he rejoices in her joy.
When her eyes open, the world comes to a stop. Her fierce blue eyes pierce him, icing his heart, taking his breath away. The sky is gloomy as her soul and he knows he has never seen such a beautiful angel of darkness. He fights to breathe, while she caresses his cheek with her hand. Cold. Dead. Unique.
“It hurt you more than it did to me,” she whispers, laying her lips on his. There’s fire and ice. There’s hate and forgiveness, and he is not sure what to think, what to do, except, maybe, kissing back. He breathes into her lips, he lives in the moment. And then, he is awake. Panting, blushed, his body responding in ways he doesn’t understand to memories that wash away as seconds pass.
When he is finally completely conscious, his body slick and tired, the dream is nothing but a blurred memory in the back of his mind.
**
Morgana dreams of future, past and present. She fears them all. She knows since the day Arthur almost died that the world she knew was coming to an end, everything she knew about what was, what is and what would be became a mixture, a blurry line crossed by humans and magic. She fears the result every morning, every breath she takes, every dream she has.
She gets up, her dream vivid and fresh. Blood in her hands, her belly and her legs. She is not scared of it anymore and yet stills fears the source. She bathes with ease. There’s no pain in her body as in her soul. A black cloud covers her hopes and dreams. She hears a song in her head, lyrics and voice that come from dreams and nightmares. It’s a sweet melody that almost pushes her back to sleep. It talks about all that was; the magic, the lies, the pain and the hurt; the broken promises that never were, the hopes that came to a halt. They are words of love, of guidance, and they talk to her. Asleep and awake.
**
There’s a river she likes to play with. It is far away from the crowed cities, in the border of the Kingdom, surrounded by forest and green, filled with magic and soft sounds. She sings a song to the earth, to the gods and priests. She dances with her feet naked, letting magic fill her. She is not corrupted. She is not afraid. She is only fifteen years old. Her name is Nimueh.
**
Merlin is silent most of the time. Arthur is worried, Gwen is worried, Gaius is worried. Morgana is not. She smiles at him sometimes, when she knows nobody is watching, he doesn’t smile back, but he nods and a glimpse of light cover his eyes.
Ghosts of lives and deaths cover his soul, and she can see them as clear as water, as the air that surrounds him becomes hot and cold at the same time. When she dreams, he is there. When she dreams, they are not alone. When she dreams, they are definitely not apart.
**
The night is clear and warm as he walks into the courtyard. The moon shines in the sky and the stars seem to dance at each of his steps. There’s music in the air but he knows only he can hear it. It’s magic, pure, powerful magic. It’s the earth calling him and he can’t avoid it.
His feet take him far from the castle and the guards eye him with worry but don’t say a word, they just nod in acknowledge and let him be. He only stops when he reaches the border of the woods. There is nothing to light the way, only darkness and danger, but he doesn’t need to go inside. He walks his ways over the edge for what it seems ages, unsure of what he is looking for.
It takes him what seems an eternity to arrive to his destiny. It’s far away from the castle and the night is full and alive. He can see Camelot rising in front of him, great and magnificent, asking for love and forgiveness, surrounded by the same magic the King despises so much. For a moment, he smiles in wonder. But then, he focuses his eyes in the figure that faces him. She wears a dark cloak and her features are hidden, but it’s definitely a woman, and he doesn’t need to be told to know she’s been waiting.
“It was about time, Merlin,” she smiles at him, softly, warm. “I was about to go back.”
“You wouldn’t have, my lady,” he says, realisation flooding him. No lies, no secrets and everything is clear. He knows. She knows. And right now, it’s all he needs.
“No, maybe not.”
**
She plays with toys, mortal, puppets and she smiles. She is free and chained but she doesn’t really mind. She is not there but is everywhere. Following them, crushing them, melting them. She wants them. She wants him, for everything they could have been. She wants her, for everything she’ll let them be.
“It hurt you more.” Words echo in the air, and then she laughs.
**
They met in silence and he learns what it is to smile again while he teaches her. He caresses her skin with magic and his eyes light on gold. She laughs, like if life came back to her and the ghost that hunts her nights fled away while they are together. Nobody knows the extent of their relationship, but they know it doesn’t go unnoticed. They don’t have the strength to mind.
He kisses her sometimes, under the moonlight, in secret, she caresses his cheeks and sings a song he remembers hearing before. She talks to him of destiny, and the word doesn’t sound corrupted or evil in her lips. She talks to him about future and past, about happiness and horror.
She whispers about forgiveness and he swears there’s something he is missing. She shuts him up with her lips.
**
He dreams again of the Lady. She is beautiful, a little goddess offered to him. She dances like the last time, and this time, he remembers. The skin, the fire, the ice and the cold. He remembers her lips, her hands, the song and the dancing. He remembers her warning and feels like crying. However, it’s not the same and she doesn’t seem to care. She dances, her feet guiding her through crystalline water.
She is not alone.
He is marvelled, prettified but the enchantment the two women have on him. The second one is easier to recognize. She looks younger, freer, not haunted as she does in real life. Her dark hair falls on her shoulder with ease and her eyes look at him, pleading. She is dancing too, but her grace is taunting and severe. Her childish movements don’t seem out of place, in the grass, between him and the Lady. Morgana is as pure as his dreams let her be; she smiles at him, happy.
“It hurt you more, Merlin,” says the Lady, and Merlin fixes his eyes on her as her dance stops. He recognizes her then, but he is unable to move, think or do anything rather than watch. He is a prisoner of his own dream. The woman, the witch, walks with ease and lust towards Morgana, who doesn’t seem to be worried and looks at him with a smile in her face. Her eyes shout ‘it’s ok,’ but he isn’t sure he can believe so. Nimueh’s hands finally reach Morgana’s shoulders, and her skin glows under her touch.
He feels the heat, the want, the need and wants to cry. When the witch’s lips touch Morgana’s neck, he bends, feeling as if was he who was under her touch, under her power. His eyes are still locked with Morgana’s, who seems to sing a song for him. The one that Nimueh had sang all the way before.
‘It hurt you more,’ the words echo in his head. Piercing it, hurting and icing his soul. He is incapable of fighting back and somehow, he can’t be sure he wants to.
**
Morgana knows this feeling, the one that says everything is fine, the one that tells her she is on the right path, no fear, no lies. This is what her dreams want, this is what she wants. There’s none of them without the other, she knows that know.
She wishes she had had the time to explain him so.
**
He is consumed. His eyes don’t leave Morgana’s face, the one that comes to him, and suddenly it’s only centimetres away. “It’s alright, Merlin,” she says with soothing voice. He can feel Morgana breathe over him, and the touch of Nimueh’s hand on his torso as she leads them towards Morgana’s breast. “It all right, it won’t hurt you… I know.”
It hurt you more. It hurt you more. It hurt you more. The words echo in his mind, but he can’t make sense of them. He trusts Morgana with his life, he knows that, but Nimueh’s presence is intoxicating and his mind is blurry and confused.
He can’t move or breathe; all he does is look at Morgana while feeling Nimueh’s piercing eyes on him. He is torn between anger and want and when Morgana’s lips find his, all he can do is answer back. It his body, it his magic, all he was and will be what ask for so. He leans to her, and Nimueh’s hands fill the space between their bodies, moving, caressing. He feels her breath in his neck as she bites the skin in Morgana’s shoulders, and he feels the shock in his spine as her hands take turns between Morgana and him.
He doesn’t stop; he kisses Morgana fiercely, urgently. It’s not easy at first, they keep pushing each other until they find a rhythm and everything seems to fall in place. Everything that follows seems the only rational path to go.
**
There’s a soft white cloud flying in the sky. It’s lonely, but pure, and soft like cotton. She watches it pass in awe. The world moves around her and she moves with it, playing, turning it. A wicked smile spread across her face. Her hands move over water, images of events she is not meant to presence flooding in front of her. She tastes the smell, the flavour, the skin and the heat of what was hers and it’s theirs too.
She is better now.
It hurt him more.
**
When he opens his eyes, all he feels is grass and an emptiness he never knew he could have. The sky is bright and clear above his head. He head spins, and his stomach hurts, but what makes him awake is the strong smell of blood. He feels the slick of sweat on his body, and when he looks at himself, he sees the red mixed in his skin. He is naked in what seems to be the middle of nowhere. At his side, Morgana sleeps dressed in blood.
He stands and kneels at her side immediately, trying to push the memories of his dream out of his head. His hand trace Morgana’s body, looking for injuries, but there’s nothing there, and her breath is normal. Confusion is all he has; questions without answers.
And then she is smiling.
“Merlin,” she moans, and he leans to her. She opens her eyes, blue, green and gold mixing in one and he is afraid of the consequence of actions he isn’t even aware of doing. Then, she kisses him. It’s bitter and sweet at the same time. It taste like dry blood and warm skin. “Merlin,” she begs.
He remembers. But this time is not a dream. She shifts under his weight and he asks if she is ok, her only response is to shut his lips with hers.
**
Morgana leaves in the night; she is not alone, she can feel Nimueh in her mind, pushing, caressing, her hands on her hips, her lips on her neck. She feels Merlin’s magic tangled in her toes, shooting pain and love through her.
She doesn’t look back at Camelot. She understands now. There’s no longer blood on her dreams or her body, it just lives inside her. As the memories, as Nimueh, as Merlin and his magic.
They are all connected and now that she knows why Nimueh came to them, it’s time to answer the call.
But she knows best, and as a tear traces her cheek, and Merlin's eyes come alive in her mind, she remembers that the truth is that it hurt them all.
**
Merlin looks the horizon from his window. He sees her leaving in the dark even though nobody else can. He feels the life that pulses in her.
It’s been the three of them since ever. Life brings death and death brings life. It was a lesson he learned too late.
**
There’s a girl that dances, under the sky, in their dreams. She is five years old, and magic dances with her, surrounding, pleading. It’s her and magic, green eyes than laugh in gold. Blue fingers that caress the skin in cold.
They wake panting. Away from each other, but never apart. They feel their kisses, the burn of the skin and they look for her. The girl that never was but always will be.
“It hurt us all,” she says to the air, not sure who she is talking to. She seeks for the usual blood, but finds nothing and figures that there’s nothing common about their situation right now. There’s confusion and magic in her soul. There’s magic in the boy that lies forgotten in the castle that was once hers. “It hurt us all,” she repeats.
♠♠♠
Concrit = ♥