Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow
Title: Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow
Author: Gyllenhaalic01
Pairing: Merlin/Arthur
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I could lie and pretend that they belong to me. But I doubt I would be believed. Merlin belongs to the BBC
Summary: This one is a little less fluffy than my others...I don't know how to say anything without ruining it though...A conversation between the boys which starts off light hearted and happy soon goes down hill...assumes an established relationship.
Spoilers: I really don't think so but to be honest, if you haven't seen all of the episodes then I am not really sure why you are here reading fanfic instead of watching them.
Words: Around 760
Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow
I have never seen such a beautiful day here in Camelot before. A waterfall of sunlight cascades in through the open windows and leaves a pool of gold upon the floor. The birds outside sing merrily to each other and my heart sings with them; for I have everything.
For there; on the oldest, creakiest, handsomest chair; sits Merlin.
“You know, Merlin, I would like to apologise for calling you a bad manservant earlier. It seems I was not being totally honest.”
Merlin rolls his eyes and grins sheepishly. He knows me too well not to know what I am going to say next. Yet I continue on, smirk playing on my lips.
“However, I will happily rectify this dishonesty immediately. You are, without a doubt, the most appalling, clumsy, incompetent, abysmal manservant I have ever had.”
Merlin stands and he grins at me as if I have just told him he was up for the ‘Manservant of the Year’ award. He sighs in an exaggerated pretence at hurt.
“You really think that, Sire? Well then I guess I should leave your services…”
He adds a large sniff for good measure and pouts in a way that has become so familiar to me over the long years I have loved him. I chuckle in a much more tender way than I had intended and fold my arms defensively over my purple clad chest. Purple always was Merlin’s favourite colour.
“Oh stop that, Merlin. You know perfectly well just how badly I would cope if you were to leave so you can stop that ‘puppy dog’ look right now. Besides, it makes you look worryingly like Morgana did when she was a little girl.”
He beams widely at that. A picture of pure happiness that I echo with my own smile. He cocks his head slightly to one side and his grin gentles into a slightly sadder and melancholy emotion, his voice softer but his eyes still locked on mine.
“You are wearing the purple shirt again?”
I break the eye contact between us. My tone seems to reflect his.
“It is your favourite.”
Merlin’s smile fades into nothing as he steps forwards. His eyes still burning holes into my face and his voice hardly louder than a whisper.
“You know, you cannot wear it forever, Arthur.”
“I am the King. I can wear whatever the hell I want.”
“Arthur-“
“Please.” Our eyes meet again but his are no longer smiling.
“Please.” I repeat “I need it. It is your favourite.”
Merlin nods his head sadly. I can’t understand why he looks so close to tears. I want to hold him until his smile comes back. The one that stops my heart and steals my breath. He seems to know exactly what I am thinking.
“You know you can’t hold me, don’t you, Arthur? You know I can’t kiss you now and make this all go away?”
“What? Merlin - “
I hear the door swing open behind me. I hear the worried female voice.
“Arthur?”
My head snaps around. Morgana is standing at the doorway. Her eyes made dull with grief, her shoulders tense and her face thinner than it ever used to be. She smiles at me though it does not reach her eyes. Before she can speak I roll my eyes.
“Morgana, you must know by now how I feel about knocking. Honestly, I have already had this conversation with Merlin today.”
I gesture behind me in Merlin’s direction. If it is possible, she looks even worse than she did when she first opened the door. Her voice is hesitant and she seems unwilling to speak for a moment. She sounds as though she is trying to tell a child he can’t have his dessert without setting him off and she looks at me half fearfully.
“Arthur…I’m so sorry. You know, Merlin isn’t here, don’t you?”
For the second time in a very short space of time my head snaps around. She is right. Merlin isn’t there. It is just an empty room. Same as it has been for the past three years. I hear her leave with a click of the door but I don’t turn my head to look.
I have never seen such a miserable day here in Camelot before. The rain pounds on the stone of the castle, beating it relentlessly and without mercy. A single crow outside cries out and my heart cries with it; for I have nothing.
For there; on the oldest, creakiest, handsomest chair; lies a red neck scarf, where Merlin used to sit.
A/N: This extract from Shakespeare's 'Macbeth' is where I got the title from. I think it goes well with the story.
‘To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing’.