[merlin] tears & nothing but a stranger [ot4] {english}
I have this obsession to post everything I do on comments on different activities here eventually. These were done for camelot_love 2nd Drabble Tag, and I finally remembered I had to post them here ;D.
Fandom: Merlin
Title: Tears
Characters: Merlin & Gwen
Rating: G
Warnings: Spoilers for 2x12
Word Count: 206
Summary: For the prompt Gwen finds out what Merlin did in 2x12 Originally posted here @ camelot_love's drabble tag (r2).
It’s tears in her eyes. And maybe a bit of rage. But mostly tears. And disappointment. Lots of disappointment.
And it leaves him incapable of acting. He fiddles with his feet. His hands. He darts his eyes away and then looks up. Blushing. Ashamed. Words crawl to his throat and die on his lips. Excuses, explanations, reasons. Every single word he never thought he would need to say. Every single word he wished he wouldn’t have to say. Every single word he just can’t say.
And when the tears fade, he can glimpse the sadness of her eyes. Just a little bit, before it becomes hate and frustration and her hands, her tiny strong hands, hit his chest.
He doesn’t fight back. He won’t fight back. This is what he deserves. You, you, you, you… he hears she say. But the words die in the air, in his chest, as she leans and barely hits him, her strength fading away, and he just wraps her and whispers. I’m so sorry, Gwen.
It’s tears on his shirt, on his soul, on her sadness, on their fear. It’s tears on the past. And it’s a single I know between sobs. Almost unheard. Almost impossible. Just almost. But enough.
Fandom: Merlin
Title: nothing but a stranger
Characters: Morgana, OT3&OT4-ish.
Rating: PG13
Warnings: light-spoilers for 2x12
Word Count: 995
Summary: For the prompt Morgana sees OT3 being happy and wonders what's become of her Originally posted here @ camelot_love's drabble tag (r2). [future fic]
Years have gone by before she steps on the lands of Camelot again. Her hair is long -longer-, her eyes look older and spark with interest as she walks the fringe of the woods that surround the city, her body is older -it never felt as strong as it does now. She has seen this, her bare feet walking paths she used to know as well as the back of her hand. She has seen this, feeling the earth and the loneliness, the memories and the regret. She has seen this, and yet, can do nothing to prevent it. She orders herself to go forward, and while her body reacts, her soul follows her just a little behind.
Passing by the Guard of Camelot without being noticed is easy, a simple trick and she is nothing but another shadow in the dark. She feels Camelot vibrate through the skin of her feet, full of magic and power and love and future. She draws the scars of the past with new colours. Memories are washed away as she watches Camelot with new renewed eyes. As she feels Camelot instead of trying to understand it, she learns everything again, from the day she came here the first time, until the day she was forced to leave. It’s all new, memories she couldn’t even begin to grasp back then, naïve and lost as she was.
The entrance waits for her, glowing in the dark with power, daring her, commanding her to make the first move, to prove herself worthy enough to come inside. She caresses the wood, lips forming words in ancient languages, tips of her fingers tickling with power and recognition, eyes changing colour until she, simple Morgana, is no more. Merlin’s name comes of her lips somewhere in between the enchantment and the door is delighted with the feeling she offers. It opens; it yells “Welcome home” in silent agony and Morgana smiles. It was never forbidden for her to come back, the knowledge fills her with love and doubts and fear and acceptance.
As she continues her path, maids and servant pass by her, no one noticing her presence, no one realizing not the danger, not the possibilities. She is nothing but a ghost, a name they barely remember, a face they wouldn’t be able to recognize. Come to it, she isn’t the same Morgana she was once before, it probably wouldn’t matter anymore. She is nothing but a stranger in a well known land.
It doesn’t take long to find the throne room. Empty and alone, she distracts the guards enough time to get inside. She sits on the corner of the room, images of everything she lived in here filling her mind. She becomes one with the stones and the magic that surrounds them. She becomes one with the past and the future and does what she does best; she waits.
With her eyes closed she feels them enter, loud, excited, relaxed and laughing. Morgana is so close to them that she could just stand and reach for them, wrap her hand on theirs wrists, smile and make them hers. She could just stand up and hug Gwen until it starts to hurt, she could slap Arthur and smile to him and slap him again just because she feels like doing so, and she could avoid Merlin, stand beside him, search into his eyes, unable to resist him but capable of staying away, until her hand reaches him and it sparks with magic and want and forgiveness she is not ready to give. She could do all this, but she doesn’t.
It’s almost bizarre. The air is filled with such calmness and happiness that it drowns her, and she fades even more into the wall, forgotten and unnoticed. There’s a veil of fears, memories and loneliness that detaches her from reality, and their presence almost feels like a dream. You could be part of this, a little voice in her head tells her. She doesn’t hear it. Her eyes face the dream of happiness her friends -used to be friends- have. Arthur is laughing at something he himself said, Merlin looks at him just as he always did, eyes glowing in a mixture of annoyance and love, and Gwen, just smiles warmly at them, wrapping her arms around Arthur. It’s intimate, everything about it, a secret moment between the rulers of Albion. Something she is not part of, something she shouldn’t even know exists.
She doesn’t feel the tears until they start wetting her dress, she does, instead, feel and emptiness crawling inside out, and vice versa. Every single word they say, every single laugh, every single caress of skin, and every touch, it pains inside a heart she no longer knew she had. She rediscovers -as she learned a new city- new people, new hearts and yet, it glows, blurry and undefined, the same souls she once fell in love for. She aches for it, she aches to be them, and she aches to hurt them and rob them of their happiness because they forgot. They forgot her, they forgot the pain and the loneliness, they embraced the magic, they embraced the friendship and they left her behind.
She sees a new world in front of her; she sees what she couldn’t see before, when she was blinded, when she didn’t have a path in life. She sees the possibilities, the broken ends that made them apart, she sees everything she could have been and everything she is not. Bitterness chokes on her throat and she wants to scream. See me, I’m here. I’m here. Please. But she can’t, and they wouldn’t hear her anyway. As the moment passes and they start to calm, as Arthur steals kisses from his wife, as Merlin smiles and looks at the stars, she feels like fading away. Ages have passed since she was so close to them. Yet, she has never felt so far.
Fandom: Merlin
Title: Tears
Characters: Merlin & Gwen
Rating: G
Warnings: Spoilers for 2x12
Word Count: 206
Summary: For the prompt Gwen finds out what Merlin did in 2x12 Originally posted here @ camelot_love's drabble tag (r2).
It’s tears in her eyes. And maybe a bit of rage. But mostly tears. And disappointment. Lots of disappointment.
And it leaves him incapable of acting. He fiddles with his feet. His hands. He darts his eyes away and then looks up. Blushing. Ashamed. Words crawl to his throat and die on his lips. Excuses, explanations, reasons. Every single word he never thought he would need to say. Every single word he wished he wouldn’t have to say. Every single word he just can’t say.
And when the tears fade, he can glimpse the sadness of her eyes. Just a little bit, before it becomes hate and frustration and her hands, her tiny strong hands, hit his chest.
He doesn’t fight back. He won’t fight back. This is what he deserves. You, you, you, you… he hears she say. But the words die in the air, in his chest, as she leans and barely hits him, her strength fading away, and he just wraps her and whispers. I’m so sorry, Gwen.
It’s tears on his shirt, on his soul, on her sadness, on their fear. It’s tears on the past. And it’s a single I know between sobs. Almost unheard. Almost impossible. Just almost. But enough.
Fandom: Merlin
Title: nothing but a stranger
Characters: Morgana, OT3&OT4-ish.
Rating: PG13
Warnings: light-spoilers for 2x12
Word Count: 995
Summary: For the prompt Morgana sees OT3 being happy and wonders what's become of her Originally posted here @ camelot_love's drabble tag (r2). [future fic]
Years have gone by before she steps on the lands of Camelot again. Her hair is long -longer-, her eyes look older and spark with interest as she walks the fringe of the woods that surround the city, her body is older -it never felt as strong as it does now. She has seen this, her bare feet walking paths she used to know as well as the back of her hand. She has seen this, feeling the earth and the loneliness, the memories and the regret. She has seen this, and yet, can do nothing to prevent it. She orders herself to go forward, and while her body reacts, her soul follows her just a little behind.
Passing by the Guard of Camelot without being noticed is easy, a simple trick and she is nothing but another shadow in the dark. She feels Camelot vibrate through the skin of her feet, full of magic and power and love and future. She draws the scars of the past with new colours. Memories are washed away as she watches Camelot with new renewed eyes. As she feels Camelot instead of trying to understand it, she learns everything again, from the day she came here the first time, until the day she was forced to leave. It’s all new, memories she couldn’t even begin to grasp back then, naïve and lost as she was.
The entrance waits for her, glowing in the dark with power, daring her, commanding her to make the first move, to prove herself worthy enough to come inside. She caresses the wood, lips forming words in ancient languages, tips of her fingers tickling with power and recognition, eyes changing colour until she, simple Morgana, is no more. Merlin’s name comes of her lips somewhere in between the enchantment and the door is delighted with the feeling she offers. It opens; it yells “Welcome home” in silent agony and Morgana smiles. It was never forbidden for her to come back, the knowledge fills her with love and doubts and fear and acceptance.
As she continues her path, maids and servant pass by her, no one noticing her presence, no one realizing not the danger, not the possibilities. She is nothing but a ghost, a name they barely remember, a face they wouldn’t be able to recognize. Come to it, she isn’t the same Morgana she was once before, it probably wouldn’t matter anymore. She is nothing but a stranger in a well known land.
It doesn’t take long to find the throne room. Empty and alone, she distracts the guards enough time to get inside. She sits on the corner of the room, images of everything she lived in here filling her mind. She becomes one with the stones and the magic that surrounds them. She becomes one with the past and the future and does what she does best; she waits.
With her eyes closed she feels them enter, loud, excited, relaxed and laughing. Morgana is so close to them that she could just stand and reach for them, wrap her hand on theirs wrists, smile and make them hers. She could just stand up and hug Gwen until it starts to hurt, she could slap Arthur and smile to him and slap him again just because she feels like doing so, and she could avoid Merlin, stand beside him, search into his eyes, unable to resist him but capable of staying away, until her hand reaches him and it sparks with magic and want and forgiveness she is not ready to give. She could do all this, but she doesn’t.
It’s almost bizarre. The air is filled with such calmness and happiness that it drowns her, and she fades even more into the wall, forgotten and unnoticed. There’s a veil of fears, memories and loneliness that detaches her from reality, and their presence almost feels like a dream. You could be part of this, a little voice in her head tells her. She doesn’t hear it. Her eyes face the dream of happiness her friends -used to be friends- have. Arthur is laughing at something he himself said, Merlin looks at him just as he always did, eyes glowing in a mixture of annoyance and love, and Gwen, just smiles warmly at them, wrapping her arms around Arthur. It’s intimate, everything about it, a secret moment between the rulers of Albion. Something she is not part of, something she shouldn’t even know exists.
She doesn’t feel the tears until they start wetting her dress, she does, instead, feel and emptiness crawling inside out, and vice versa. Every single word they say, every single laugh, every single caress of skin, and every touch, it pains inside a heart she no longer knew she had. She rediscovers -as she learned a new city- new people, new hearts and yet, it glows, blurry and undefined, the same souls she once fell in love for. She aches for it, she aches to be them, and she aches to hurt them and rob them of their happiness because they forgot. They forgot her, they forgot the pain and the loneliness, they embraced the magic, they embraced the friendship and they left her behind.
She sees a new world in front of her; she sees what she couldn’t see before, when she was blinded, when she didn’t have a path in life. She sees the possibilities, the broken ends that made them apart, she sees everything she could have been and everything she is not. Bitterness chokes on her throat and she wants to scream. See me, I’m here. I’m here. Please. But she can’t, and they wouldn’t hear her anyway. As the moment passes and they start to calm, as Arthur steals kisses from his wife, as Merlin smiles and looks at the stars, she feels like fading away. Ages have passed since she was so close to them. Yet, she has never felt so far.