All my Heart Collection V: Familial Pains & Joys
A Brother’s Notice of Love: Elyan assures his sister’s happiness
Meet Your Past Greet Your Future: Magic brings child of future days
Beautiful Color: Familial love has myriads of shades
Omen: He will not give up…
Eclipse: Gwen desires the truth about Mithian
The Lie’s Truth: Uther’s secret fallacy
Inches of Love: Healing of loss’s pain begins
Life: It’s not a dream/wish. She is there.
Not Enough: Love should have been substantial, but it lacks.
Kaleidoscope: So many emotions woven into a kaleidoscope of family
Virgin to Love: Afraid, he hurts that he loves.
Eyes of Covert Truth: In her eyes is the truth, of joy, pain and bittersweet.
Gone Be The Gold: The golden love fades at his departure.
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A Brother’s Notice of Love
Written for: ag_fics Fic Battle 2.0
Prompt: lj user=vexena_sky- Elyan catches Arthur and Gwen together and realizes for the first time that they are in love.
Characters: A/G and Elyan
Rating: G/ sometime after season 3
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He witnessed it twice now. In the ruins of the castle they took refuge in, and the center of Camelot’s citadel. So much feeling and emotion. He wanted to understand the intention entirely. After all, she was his sister, and this man had just knighted him.
Elyan found him within chambers.
“Sire…If I may have a moment.”
Arthur turned around at the familiar even voice. It was not loud, so like his sister’s. Their tones were low, did not need to be broad. They said enough quietly.
Arthur let out a sigh that tempered on weariness. Still the castle was being worked back into order after Morgana’s possession of it. Sadly the bodies of those who had fallen were being moved to graves of respect. And there were a little less than a handful of new knights, including this man who so politely spoke.
Giving a smile, Arthur moved to cup Elyan’s shoulder. “Ah, you’re a knight now. You don’t have to address me that way all the time. What is it Elyan?”
Indeed he was a knight, and for that Elyan would be forever grateful. Years it was now that Elyan was a drifter, going from one place to another. He couldn’t find then a place of stability, a reason to hold to one location. Knighthood gave him that reason finally. He had a kingdom and king to serve. He had purpose now. And that was thanks to Arthur, yes, his openness, but also thanks to his sister, who for years, even as the younger one, counseled him on being more responsible, not venturing away all the time.
“It’s about my sister, Arthur. You love her?”
He wasn’t expecting this. Arthur moved back from the question at first, and then without any deep thought needed, for you see this answer resided within heart, he spoke. “Yes. Elyan, I love your sister.”
“You kissed her within the ruined castle, and again in the citadel. Where everyone could see. You showed no hesitation.”
Arthur nodded, not totally in sync with how brothers of sisters operated. Although Morgana was like one to him in many ways even before he knew their blood tie, they did not share the kind of relationship that Gwen and Elyan did. Arthur knew little about that type of family feeling.
“I see no reason to hide how I feel about Guinevere, Elyan. I love her and I don’t want to conceal that.”
Elyan smiled with appreciation for that answer. And yet…
“Arthur, you made me knight. Now Gwen…what is to be of her?”
Arthur pondered, before answering. “Your sister was very happy being handmaiden to Morgana for all those years. Now that is not there anymore. Guinevere tends more to the castle upkeep and she’s graciously volunteered to help with my father. I made you and the others, knights, Elyan, because the kingdom needed it at that moment. That’s not to say I plan to alter the decision. I’m instead quite certain it was the right one. I don’t think of your sister as just a servant of Camelot. She is much more to me. But she has shown me too the importance of servants. That they are a vital part of Camelot’s running. Guinevere is content in her work. Without pride. Without complaint. I’ve learned to respect that.”
“So you see her never moving on, up or-
Arthur gently cut through. “Elyan, the time is not right. But when it is, I fully intend to ask Guinevere to be my wife and my queen. I have no doubt she would be the most excellent one. Being a servant, as I said, there is nothing wrong with it, but it’s never been enough to hold your sister. At least I don’t think. Guinevere is capable of much more. And I feel soon the kingdom, the other lands will see that.”
It was heartening to hear Arthur’s strong affections and belief for his sister, but still some things bugged Elyan. “You think the kingdom will accept such change?”
Arthur shrugged. “It’s taking time for them to adjust to you and the others being knights now, but it’s coming along. It will be the same when Guinevere becomes queen. It will be a time of celebration actually.”
Elyan nodded. And moved to talk to another as one of the knights came to speak to him about that afternoon’s training.
Meanwhile Gwen too passed by, and Arthur caught at her waist. She laughed quietly, gesturing that there were others around them. And yet Arthur did not pull her into any dark spot, just the corner for discreetness if anything, and kissed her.
Elyan witnessed it for a second, no more, and then went to tend to his knight’ duties. The conversation was over and he was satisfied. Like Arthur, he always knew Gwen was special.
To think of her marrying a man that she obviously loved so much, and that man returned the favor, did Elyan’s heart good. One day she truly would be a vibrant queen, and maybe even more importantly, a much loved wife.
Elyan smiled softly, making sure no one was around as he whispered,
“Dad…see…she still carries such hope. Is loved…and gives love.”
He was happy and proud to be her brother.
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Meet Your Past, Greet Your Future
Written for: ag_fics MC 1
Prompt: anonymous- One of A/G’s children turns up in Camelot.
Theme used: time
Characters: A/G, Merlin
Rating: G
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"Who is this?" The king and queen ask the fussing sorcerer, confounded.
Merlin points back to the babe in the crib, before gesturing to the wide eyed little girl sitting upon the steps, her look anxious beyond the deep blue eyes and waves of dark hair, "Your daughter, Melora."
Gasps and the king utters some good natured ribbing at another botch-up from the sorcerer, but then he feels his wife's hand and together they go to meet their temporary visitor, for the spell is not ever-lasting, just a glimpse into the future, "Well hello there, and welcome to Camelot."
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Beautiful Color
Written for: ag_fics Fic Battle 2.0
Prompt: lj user=2sam11- colorless
Characters: A/G
Rating: Teen / loved prompt, took a few liberties with
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*
Love…some foolishly say has no color, no hue. It is just bland of any range. You close your eyes, blind them til saturation swallows it all whole. It is wrong to look at hue, to notice the difference they say. We are all alike. We are all the same. They tell you. Color does not matter.
Especially not in love.
What an unwise thought. Color is everywhere in love. It’s everywhere in skin. His. Naked. Pale light. It shades him as he sleeps bared to you and you alone. His hard muscle. His long fingered hands. His boned ankles. His flesh like milk and vanilla cream. It feels so divine under your fingers as you stroke now, as you touch. As you press kisses upon all the naked.
“Mmm…Guinevere…”
“Shhh…” He is so tired. So poorly tired after hours of no sleep. Rocking. Holding. “Sleep Arthur. Rest.”
“Mmm…yeah…” You cover him with the blanket. It is a warm morning again. That’s why he doesn’t care to wear any clothes. Neither do you, but now that you depart the bed, you bring over your shoulders a short robe. You walk down the narrow hall to a pair of rooms.
Love has no color.
Crazy assumption.
You go into the first room where a baby sleeps. His skin as much of cream as your husband’s, but his hair a dark smattering of fuzz.
“Mmm…” You stroke him tenderly as after hours of colicky cries he rests now. Oh let the teething ordeal end soon. It keeps you all awake for so long.
You kiss his baby skin and go from his room to the next. In it sleeps a little girl of the blondest beautiful hair and the tannest ever skin. She’s a gorgeous sun blessed wonder who you love so dearly, as much as the other two of your precious family. You touch her tanned arm, smile at the beauty of her skin.
Love has no color.
Who thought of such illusion?
You go back to the room you share with him. Your husband now of five years. Five wonderful precious years. And as you pull off the robe and lie nakedly beside, in wonder at the contrast of his cream vanilla to your golden brown, you laugh at that horrid fallacy.
Love has every color.
Every hue.
Every myriad of range.
Love glows with it. His leg to your leg. His hair to your hair. That upon his head. That intimately between his legs. Dusted into his chest. His so pale. So soft. Yours so dark. So firm.
His flesh. White to the technical. Yours black then.
Love has no color.
Oh look again you blind observers. Look at the rainbow of color of my family.
Look at the myriad of color of love.
Look you precious mistake.
Look.
Love is an ocean of color.
Naked beautiful color.
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Omen
Written for: ag_fics MC 3
Prompt: anonymous- What if This Storm Ends?
Themes used: Omen, wish, say it,
Characters: A/G
Rating: PG/ sometime after season 3
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It’s the dirty omen of truth, the wish begging to be granted. Tell the fiend he can’t have her. Tell heaven time is not yet ready. The wind howls, the rains fall. The sky is blackened hell. He calls out her name, his throat ripping. He denies everything he’s been told, that she was seen, bursting into flames. That she is gone.
His heart won’t heed those unwelcome words as the earth roars. As beyond pillars of rumble, tendrils of midnight appear.
No, can’t be.
Please be.
He prays, boots heavily treading the ground, desperate for-
Within the storm, the woman meant to be dead, stands.
His
Guinevere.
And as the lightning hits, he stumbles over the rumble, clasps her to his awakened soul. Grips her soot stained body to his, cries against her shoulder.
“You’re alive...”
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Eclipse
Written for: ag_fics Fic Battle 2.0
Prompt: lj user=sidhe_faerie- Arthur and Gwen talk about his engagement with Mithian.
Characters: A/G, talks about Mithian
Rating: PG / takes place after season 4
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It still hurts a bit, but she’s not complained about it since encountering him again. Now she’s back in Camelot and with all the danger over she can feel the pricks of pain from when the arrow must have hit her. Made her sick, but something helped with that. Merlin? Yes, his learning from Gaius about tending to the injured must have assisted.
“Guinevere?”
She turns around, seeing her soon to be husband. He wants the wedding to happen as early as possible, her coronation too, so Camelot will have a queen again, but even more importantly, they can be together. Share a bed, chambers, everything.
Gwen looks down even as he says her name again, this time more sharply. She lifts it to him. “So was this hers? Mithian’s?”
Arthur frowns at the shawl. Mithian had it the night she first visited and left it by mistake. The guards brought it to his room thinking he the best person to have it. Perhaps not the best decision. No worries that Guinevere will be madly jealous. She does not act that way ever. But her quiet is disconcerting, the growing intensity in her eyes as she asks him the question.
“Yes. She left a bit upset when I didn’t marry her. I think I may have hurt/insulted her.”
Gwen sighs. “Probably so.” She touches her knee, recalling, as he sits down beside on the bench she’s on.
His room was a mess after Morgana’s invasion, but now it’s mostly back in order. Everything has to be in place for the upcoming nuptials.
His hands extend to the front of her body. They hold there as he murmurs. “I’m sorry.”
It’s the first time really she’s heard the words and they’re awkward because apologies could be all around. She supposes it’s time to issue her own. “I-
“No.” He whispers breathily, gently brushing his fingers over her lips to stop procession. “I did wrong, forcing you out there. I was upset. I had to think of Camelot. I…listened to my traitorous uncle, but to just throw you out there…anything could have happened. Like with Tristan and Isolde I could have lost-
She shakes her head, tears lining her eyes. “Arthur, don’t. Just. Did you have feelings for her?”
“Who?”
“Mithian.” She says with exasperation.
Arthur shakes his head, quick, and yet with a bit of hesitation. “No. She’s beautiful. I can’t deny that. And she’s a good person. She’s not like so many other princesses. Mithian surprises. She was kind to Merlin and she truly enjoyed spending time with me. I did with her.”
“Oh.” Gwen looks away, but then he grasps her waist, turns her back to him. “But I didn’t love her. I was not…in love with her. She asked me who it was I did love and I told her that you were a blacksmith’s daughter, and she asked if the risk was great enough of not bolstering kingdom, of losing it even, and I told her that this…” He gestures around. “Camelot. It has no real meaning to me without you Guinevere. It is not enough. I can’t rule this alone. I can’t be alone. I…”
His voice is shaking as she is holding onto his cheeks, holding onto him.
“I can’t be without the person who makes my heart full. I can’t do that. I can’t be like Tristan, so lost, so broken inside, and with a heart that is only half, because love is gone. It is deceased. I can’t be that, feel that and rule this kingdom.
I can’t.”
Her leg gives a bit of pain again. It’s nothing horrid. It’ll go away, but it makes her let out a little moan.
“What’s wrong?” He asks with concern.
And she tells him. About the arrow. Not about Merlin. Something doesn’t feel right to tell about that, but that she was lucky it didn’t hit higher, that she was fortunate it wasn’t worse.
And when she’s done, Arthur grasps her close, his chin pushing against the top of her head as he looks to the walls, terrified now and revolted by what could have been. By the lengths his sister could go to, just to get a throne. A crown.
“I’ll never let you go again.”
She kisses his neck, presses her lips there warmly. “A promise?”
“Forever more Guinevere. Yes, a promise.”
They hold like that for an hour maybe, for a few moments maybe. It does not matter. For in just hours they will begin it. A rule together. Unified.
And a life forever bound of heart to each other.
Love. The eclipse of everything.
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The Lie’s Truth
Written for: ag_fics MC 1
Prompt: anonymous- ”History is a set of lies agreed upon.”
Characters: Arthur, obscure mention of Gwen, Uther
Rating: G / set sometime in the cannon/au future {pre season 5}, Arthur finding out how Ygraine died for certain, written before finale
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The friends, the family, the lover, who will soon be his wife, call him back but he escapes the room, the echo of the lie lacerating his ears to what is the truth.
He was once told this was the veracity and then it was denied, that his birth was of sorcery, and that it led to the death of his mother, for it was a bargain, a vile gamble of one life for another, of an heir in exchange for a woman he never saw with more than newborn eyes.
But now he knows it is the reality, the lie, that the man lying in the bed before him, to this room that he has fled to, who has been ill for many months, did not tell him what is honest, but what was convenient, and so now he goes to his king, his father and with bleeding lips hisses, "It was true-what Morgause said years ago, you murdered my mother, by creating me?", and with that question, he becomes king of his people, of a new rule that will abscond the ways of the father.
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Inches of Love
Written for: ag_fics Fic Battle 2.0
Prompt: lj user=2sam11- Healing
Characters: A/G, mention of Merlin, Uther
Rating: G / cannon series 4, after Uther’s death, morning of Arthur’s coronation
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He has that breakfast with Merlin, just like he said he would. And then he excuses himself for a moment. There is still an hour left before the coronation. Arthur disguises himself in the blue cloak, not wanting words of sympathy right now from those in the citadel. He keeps walking until he comes to a small house. He knocks the door as suddenly it opens with alarming speed.
“Arthur?”
“Guinevere.”
He smiles through the cloak’s hood, but she can see it past the material. Tears glimmer in his eyes. “Oh Arthur…”
She grasps his hand and pulls him in. Just as she does he ends the pretense and head falls forward, his shoulders heaving.
She strokes his hair. “It’s okay. Just cry.”
He’s shaking hard and she knows why. It was just last night his father breathed his last. Uther Pendragon was a man she had no fondness for, but as for his son, well she has been in love with him for some time. And to see him, a man who rarely displays his emotions, broken now, clutches her heart. Makes her strain for the right healing words, the correct healing touch.
It’s probably wrong, but he holds onto her tightly, needing this, because soon there will be no sweet luxuries anymore. Soon he will have the weight of Camelot’s destiny upon his head. He will wear the crown and the words will be said. That the King Uther Pendragon is dead. That his son, Arthur Pendragon is Camelot’s new one.
Long live the king. Long live…
Holding onto him preciously she walks to her dining bench and helps him to sit with her. This makes Arthur move away from her shoulder and breast. He looks down upon the wetness there with a bothered grimace. “I’m sorry.”
“No.” She looks around, finds it, a clean piece of soft cloth. She lifts it, wipes gently at his face, stroking past and away the wetness. “I’ve held hope for this moment.”
He stares and she corrects what he must think. “I don’t mean your father’s departure. I’ve never hoped for that for I would never wish death to anyone, nor the pain of his death for you. Just…for you to become king. For I’ve always known you’d be a just one, a loved one. And yet Arthur, you must feel some fear to this awesome task that lies at your feet.”
He nods his head quietly. “Some. My father did prepare me for this though too. He had goodness in him Guinevere.”
She smiles softly. “I know he did in his love for you. And I know that you are ready. The people, you mean everything to them. They will follow you and respect you. Arthur you will be the king I’ve always seen you from days past to be. And you will heal.” She wipes the last of it away from his face. “You will heal for you are not alone. You have friends. You have Gaius. Your knights.”
“You?” He asks now, touching at her lip, getting her to stop talking.
She holds his hand against her mouth with reverence, whispering. “Yes me. Always Arthur.”
He smiles to that, the healing already beginning. By inches.
Tiny, but vital inches of love.
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Life
Written for: ag_fics MC 1
Prompt: anonymous- The world ended last week, and they haven’t seen another soul since. But then Gwen meets/sees Arthur among the rubble of civilization...
Themes used: Apocalypse, time
Characters: A/G
Rating: G
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I'm used to it now, this hollow hole of no other existence, of being alone in this burned up world, of so many faces lost, of hands that never again will touch upon me...
"Arthur?"
It's a dream, just a dream, just a wishful dream of hope that can't be true because she can't have lived through this with me, but there she stands, among the rubble, in the middle of the apocalypse, dirtied and with tears, but she is there, alive, and my soul sings again to this one tiny, but oh so vital happiness as my bruised limbs run to meet life
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Not Enough
Written for: ag_fics Fic Battle 2.0
Prompt: lj user=rubberglue- They can’t have children. It’s not an easy conversation to have.
Characters: A/G, Mithian, Merlin
Rating: PG / Cannon AU
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“What do I say to her Merlin?”
Merlin patted his friend’s back. “You say…Arthur you say nothing different than you always have.”
Mithian and Merlin exchanged sentimental looks as he left the room.
“He’s so heartbroken.” MIthian stated, touching her husband’s shoulder.
Merlin echoed the sentiment. “Yeah, but so is she. They’re going to need us now.”
“And we will be here for them.” Mithian whispered. Their hands moved down together, after a loving kiss, to her stomach. Mithian was with child.
And as she was soon ready to give life, Gwen had been told, life would never grow to existence within her body.
***
She stood at the window, her hand on her stomach, without any increase of inches. Flat to Gwen.
Arthur entered the room carefully, quietly. Knowing no gillyflowers were going to fix this. No jokes. No amount of kisses and lovemaking.
“Guinevere…” He whispered, coming to her from behind, wrapping his arms around her front and pressing a kiss to her neck.
She pushed away from those hands though, thinking how there was nothing there to hold. Nothing that would ever be within her she could give him. No life. Nothing.
Gwen stood in front of their bed, looking upon it like it was a curse. For it was supposed to help, so many things were supposed to aid. They couldn’t love each other more. They couldn’t be more passionate about each other, and so why not this.
“Why?” She whispered, trying to push away the tears, but they were at the corners of her eyes already. They were threatening.
“It’s all I’ve ever wanted with you. It’s all…”
He felt his own tears edge at seeing her pain.
“Now it’s like my body is just for waste.”
“No.” He made his way from the window to her side rapidly, turning her around in his grasp, face flinching at all the wetness there. “No. Don’t say that.”
“But you know what they will say, right? Oh the council, the other nobles, the people. Look at her. Look at the queen. She can’t have a child. She can’t bear life! Look at her!
“Guinevere, stop it!” He grabbed her wrists, ceasing her words. “Just stop.”
“But it’s true.” The salt of water trailing down her face, she nodded her head. “It is true. Maybe you should try and see if magic planting would work. Go see the different sorceresses in the land, see what they can do with my infertile body.”
“Oh God.” He grasped her tightly against him. “No.” Arthur rocked his wife, holding her firmly, hearing her cries. “No. I love you Guinevere. I don’t care what they say, what anyone says. You are not to blame for this. Anyone who tries to say that will hear it from me. They will sit in the dungeons.
Maybe…it’s me too. Maybe…”
How did you say it? How, when love was so strong, how did you say that there was something about your bodies that just didn’t quite match? That couldn’t conceive, how?
“Blame me.”
Now she finally stopped at his ugly words. Now she looked up and saw his misery, and shook her head. “No. I don’t want to blame you. I love you.”
It hurt.
It hurt so much to have passion with each other. To share such affection and to not have that be enough. While there were marriages of arrangement, of no feeling that constantly had births to celebrate.
“Council probably will tell you…well you know…to find another-
“Stop.” He stated with a rough roar. He knew what she was saying. That when a queen couldn’t bear child, the council suggested a second woman to share bed with the king so that a child could be heir. It was all about continuing the reign to them, but not to Arthur. “That won’t ever happen.”
She touched his cheek. “I want to say that this will be alright, but-
He knew. He felt the same. Empty. Barren. For their love should have made this easy.
Their love…
It should have been enough.
And yet it was not. And yet bodies had their own way. Their own chemistry sometimes.
There was adoption of course, and maybe one day they would agree to that. Maybe they’d get past this part.
But for now it hurt so deeply, not just to one, but both.
Now…
They just held onto each other, looking away.
No simple words.
Love no ease at all.
Only time.
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Kaleidoscope
Written for: ag_fics Fic Battle 2.0
Prompt: lj user=2sam11- Tears and sunshine.
Characters: A/G
Rating: PG
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Tears and sunshine. That was marriage to them. It was full of happiness. And heavy rains. It had joys and sorrows. It was a kaleidoscope of events that ranged from anger to laughter. From worry to relief. From disgust to love.
Now as Arthur Pendragon slowly ventured outside, cane in hand, tapping against the concrete of their deck, he spotted her, his wife of many years. His wondrous Guinevere.
She was rocking in that chair they set up outside just recently. Their grown kids kept telling them that they couldn’t keep living on their own. That they could move in with them, or they’d find them one of those special communities for the elderly.
But Arthur scoffed it away, and his Guinevere just softly said no. As long as she could walk, slowly albeit, she had no intention of moving from their special home, filled with so many memories.
*Skinned knees. Morning hustles and bustles around the breakfast table. Lazy nights of family TV watching. Temper tantrums. Teenage drama. Colors on the walls. Graduation caps lying in wait for that important ceremony. Prom pictures. And then after all that disjointed circle of life, the moving out. The steps from childhood to being adult. To college. To marriage…and so on…*
It had all happened here within this very special house.
And so no Gwen didn’t want to leave. And neither did Arthur.
There was a reclining chair next to her rocker. Now at her side, he kissed the top of her silvery white head of short curls, and sat down beside. “Nice day.” He stated, his voice just a bit cracked with age. Like the cracks of wrinkling upon his once smooth skin.
He could still recall meeting her. And being in love from first sight. And yet she was a spunky one. She did not heed so easily. And she taught him much about himself. Which with time he was so grateful for.
“Sun’s out. She agreed, reaching for his hand and feeling the eased hold, how it was just so much bigger than her own.
“Yes.”
Young people spent so much time talking. Even parents talked and talked and talked. But they saw no need for it. Just about every sentence could be completed by the other. They were that in synch. Once they used to take exciting vacations. They rushed to get to work on time. They dressed children and themselves as rapidly as could be. They said goodbye to dear parents.
Once life was hurried.
Now it slowed down to let them sit with each other. And so when he gestured to her a bit teasingly, but gently, she stood up from the rocker, waiting for him to sit down, and then when he did, she sat upon his lap, tapping his chest with question. “Not too heavy for you?”
He laughed at that, a mature laugh of an aging man. “Guinevere you’ve never been too heavy for me. You small little fine thing.”
His teasing was coming out again and she grinned at it. Their lips came together. Softly passionate kisses and then they settled in against each other. Her eyes closed as her head fell upon his chest. “I love you so very dearly my Arthur.”
Sunshine and tears.
A few escaped her sun shining eyes now, as sometimes emotions just came to the brink with age. They just flowed outward. He caught a few of the tears, a bit too at the corner of his own eyes, a bit of that sweet shine of sun, as he whispered, as he kissed her brow.
“Same too my Guinevere.”
A kaleidoscope of love. Of commitment. Of family. Of loss. Of new entering. Of too many moments to count…to try to put together.
Just the kaleidoscope held them all.
The Pendragon Family kaleidoscope.
Started by two.
*Arthur and his Guinevere.
Guinevere and her Arthur.*
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Virgin to Love
Written for: ag_fics MC 4
Prompt: anonymous- If it doesn’t break your heart, it isn’t love.
Themes used: Sin, Virgin
Characters: A/G
Rating: PG
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“Guinevere?”
She shudders away from him, hurt by his sin of jealousy.
“I…” He struggles, not liking begging for forgiveness, but ready to do it for her. Because love endures pain, doesn’t shun it away. “I’m sorry.”
“You didn’t trust me.”
“I know, and I was wrong.”
“You just assumed that I betrayed you.”
Vulnerable he is. With a trembling voice he states, “Battle I rise to the challenge for, taking command of a kingdom, my place, but this…I falter in. It terrifies me.”
“What does?” She asks, gentling just a bit, fingers splaying.
“Loving you.”
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Eyes of Covert Truth
Written for: ag_fics Fic Battle 2.0
Prompt: lj user=kbrand5333- In your eyes are my secrets
Characters: A/G, Merlin
Rating: G / Cannon AU / What if the golden age really happened and Camlann came many years later?
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There was a reflection in love. It resonated only for those who looked deep enough to see. It could be felt only by those who shared love with said person.
This was how it was with her. His wife now of a count of years it would take him precious time to accumulate, for it felt like it had always been. They were united in marriage and kingdom, and had been for quite some time now. They had children, and a grand one to come from the eldest. Their names were Gareth, Ywain, and Anna. While Ywain and Anna were still quite young, Anna the elder of the two at eleven, Gareth was a married man.
If Arthur looked deeply enough in his wife’s eyes he could see the moments before the birth of each of his children. He could feel his fears and joy of those days.
Throughout his life he had led many battles, lost some, and gained in most. He and his men, his fine knights of the table round, were a force like no other. However, beings that were human had the capacity to shed blood. It had happened time and time again. And so if Arthur looked into his wife’s eyes he would see the times those losses pained him too deeply. He would see the tears he shed with her in private chambers, in her keep where his vulnerabilities would be no weakness.
Judgment was an intricate facet of kingship. It had to be practiced so very often. Arthur laid down the law over and over. But his grandest changes of law were the most poignant, most private remembrances he had of kingship. The day he lifted the ban on magic, with his good old friend standing beside him, was a day of joy and pain alike. He did not want to end all his father’s way, but that way, that hurt, that pain upon the Druid people and any magic being…upon especially his friend so dear he was like brother, Arthur had to alter. And so when it was done, when he retreated to chambers and took out the crown of his mother from the closet, it was in his wife’s eyes he saw the inner child of his self. He saw the baby who wept for his mother, and she never came. For she died much too early. He saw the pain of losing her and the pain of people who had been persecuted for simply possessing something that his father could never fully understand, never tried to.
Marriage was of compromise, communication, and passion. Love entwined with all those, sometimes messily, sometimes beautifully. He could recall arguments and making ups of grunts and heaves for the passion carried to the ceiling of their feelings. He could remember sharing wise counsel. He could see the times one gave in or the other. Agreements. And those nights, those days, those afternoons, of waking, of quaking, of kissing, of opening, of touching, of releasing. Of love. Every facet of marriage’s love. He could see that privacy of marriage in his wife’s eyes.
“Father, the knights are ready.”
He didn’t look back, just stood there as his wife helped him finish getting the armor into place. “Annis…Odin…Mithian..?”
“Their troops are set to meet us there. To defend against Morgana, Mordred and the Saxons.”
“Very well.”
When Arthur looked up, his wife’s eyes were on him, but she had no words of offering.
He walked over to his eldest son, sealing his hand over the young man’s, his hair a mixture of waves and just a little darker than his own. His eyes were almost exactly his mother’s. “You are in preparation that if I-
“I am Father.”
Arthur smiled, hugging his son. “Good my Boy. Very well Gareth. Now go command the knights.”
“Yes Father.”
“I am proud of him. Is that too blustering to say?” Arthur laughed softly and looked back. Seeing it all. The many secrets. The multitude of them that hid behind her eyes. Before he could walk over to her though, the sorcerer walked in.
“Merlin? What have you learned of the area?”
“it’s Camlann, Arthur. It has many places where there is no outlet. It’s a deathtrap.”
Arthur shook his head hard. “Not if we outsmart it. And we will. With the knights brawn. With our allies of Albion. With your magic. We will Merlin.”
He said it so convincingly, but then when Merlin left, he could hear her footsteps.
They kissed. And then finally he did not just glance, but delved deeply into her eyes.
To find the truth.
The secret.
He knew what she feared, what she would resolutely not say, what she would do to keep her calm, to give it to him.
“When this battle is over you and I-
She grasped his hand, and held him tight to her heart, saying nothing, just kissing him over and over.
And as she did, he thought of what he saw in her eyes.
The secret they produced this time.
That she feared this battle.
What its outcome might be.
That she feared…
His homecoming may not be the one she would desire.
And the bittersweet truth was, he had his own misgivings. He feared those eyes of secrets of love and faith and relation…
Knew all too well…
The truth.
*****************
Gone be the Gold
Written for: ag_fics Fic Battle 2.0
Prompt: lj user=rubberglue- The most beautiful adventures are not those we go to seek.
Characters: A/G
Rating/Warning: PG / Tragedy
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She did not seek this.
You do not go into life searching out the existence that practicality tells will have no possibility. You do not believe that one day your status will be opposite of what it was before. And yet too you do not believe that love will consume your body, mind and heart one day. You do not conceive that you will find another who be partner, friend, and lover. You do not see the magic fly in the sky. You do not hear the kingdoms come together. You do not feel the beats of the minstrel bands.
When life begins, when you are without love forevermore, you do not realize that there is an adventure past the hills, the mountains, the rivers and the knells. You do not know until your hand is taken and already your passage is more than half through.
You do not seek such.
You do not seek the cries of babies in your arms. Ones who look upon you, and he with love and courage. You do not feel that friendship will be found and lost, and found again. You do not hear the drums of quaking, when the kingdoms come together in such grand alliance of peace. When Albion stands proud among flames of mighty torches.
You do not believe your fate has been so sweet, so just, that the man who you go to in the middle of the night, the man who you find at the tower’s edge is your husband. For he is a king of grandeur. He has sought his way to heal the Druid wounds. He has sought his way to listen to his friend, Sorcerer. He has brought together all these kingdoms in grand alliance. And so you celebrate with magic and music. You see in the sky a dragon take flight, so majestic, so unbound. You hear the laughter from all those below. And you see him stand there, so quiet, so reposed.
***
“Arthur?”
“Ah…I knew you’d follow me.”
You look to him. He is not so young anymore. His beard that he insists upon, covers too much of his chin, but it does not negate the handsomeness of birth, of heredity. Neither do the lines and cracks that creep at his brow, that tickle his hands. For his age is as much yours. And it is beauty to find more mature years.
“Your youngest son is quite the dancer. Every woman below flocks to have him take her hand.”
He smiles and presses a kiss to your lips. It is so familiar, his taste, and his essence. It is like waking up in the morning and finding the warmest sweetest milk to warm your weary bones. To brush away the chill. It is so.
Well and I’d say my daughter too is quite admired. Good thing she is barely of age. Those boys best stay away.”
You laugh and he does too, softly, taking your curves into his arms. “I am a fortunate man, Guinevere.”
You echo his sentiment. “Yes. So many kingdoms aligned now with Camelot. Albion is so rich with unification. And magic in hand with nobility. Merlin has never been happier. I don’t think any of us have. Oh my husband it truly is a golden age. So splendid.”
He nods for a bit, but then brings his hands to your face, caresses your cheeks with their bits of roughness. “I know that. I am well aware. But what I meant most is you. And our children. Our grand ones from our first son. All of them never possible without you. Oh Guinevere…” He has wetness at the corner of his eyes that makes you falter a bit, that makes him hold you stronger. “My greatest fear when we could not be together for so long was that you would find another.”
“Arthur…”
“Ever so glad you didn’t. Ever so grateful.”
You brush away the tears now that crawl down his cheeks. You smile and feel his passions. Kisses. Intimate holdings.
***
You feel it fade away. The memory. Oh the adventure you never sought. Oh the-
“Mother.
It’s time.”
You feel you heart roil, scream against this horrid outcome. You knew though when Camlann came. Somehow you knew that the golden age would fade from view. You knew that-
You cradle the ring on your finger and you grasp tightly to your son’s hand as he takes you to the last venture of all.
As you enter the last resting place.
Of your king.
Of your husband
Of your…
“Arthur.”