last not!PL snippet
So, here is the bit that I intended to be the ending. It was actually the first part I wrote. I wanted a different ending for Mordred and Arthur and Merlin. It's about 1K and features all three.
Kara. Kara. That name tumbles around Merlin’s mind. He knows he’s heard it before, but where. As he goes about his duties, he thinks about other things, not Kara, until it comes to him in a snap when he’s elbow deep in warm water washing the king’s laundry. Back aching from the familiar chore, he remembers another Kara all those years ago. As the clothes churn through the water, thoughts tumble in his mind.
Kara had been a pretty serving maid when Bayard had come to court -- when he had drunk the poison for Arthur. Merlin sighs, remembering how pretty she had been and then he remembers that she alone had disappeared from Bayard’s party. He does not know how she came back, but he is certain is the same girl. Jolting upright, laundry forgotten, he runs out of the kitchen, desperate to share his revelation with Arthur, dripping water as he goes.
In the corridor, he comes to his senses. It’s the middle of the night! He can’t talk to Arthur now. Besides, he realizes it’s not actually Arthur’s problem. This might be the key to turning their destinies around. He has just resolved to head to the dungeons when a voice touches his mind.
Emrys! Please!
Merlin shivers as echoes of that plea from eight years ago tug at him. He knows the pain Mordred is feeling, understands better than anyone the agony the young man is going through. Too tired to fight prophecies that cloud his mind, he turns his steps towards the dungeon.
Merlin treads lightly across the stone floor, worn boot soles hardly leaving a sound. His breath catches at the sight of Mordred, curled in upon himself, broken. Silent sobs wrack his slight frame, tears stain his face. Merlin’s heart softens further.
The warlock nods at the guards, who let him pass without comment. This is not the first time he has visited a prisoner.
“Mordred,” Merlin whispers, gripping the bars. Mordred seems too caught up in his own heartbreak to notice Merlin’s presence. Merlin tries again, “Mordred,” a little louder, but to no avail.
His heart twists at Mordred’s agony. Mordred.
Mordred looks up, directly at him, finally noticing him. Relief floods through Merlin.. He can still reach the boy.
Merlin looks at a guard and motions for him to unlock the cell. He slips inside and the key turns, locking them both in, but Merlin barely registers this. He is focused on Mordred. Everything hinges on how Mordred reacts.
Merlin kneels down, grasping Mordred’s rough, chapped hands in his own still damp ones. Mordred looks down at their joined hands and looks back at Merlin, as though he might be at the end of a very long rope that has been thrown into a deep pit.
“Mordred, I think you are not going to like what I am going to tell you.” Merlin pauses, steeling himself, mulling over how he can convey that he is acting in everyone’s best interest. “Can you just listen and think about what I have to say?”
Mordred takes in a wet, snuffly breath and nods. Merlin squeezes Mordred’s hand softly, trying to reassure him through his touch. He inhales, closes his eyes, and then starts.
“I know you think Arthur has betrayed you, but he has not. When I first came to Camelot, almost ten years ago, there was a powerful sorceress who wanted to kill Arthur.” He shakes his head. No that isn’t right. “Wait. She wanted to wreak havoc in the kingdoms, and she wanted to kill me,” he ends sadly.
Confused, Mordred shakes his head. “What does this have to do with me?” he asks, voice husky from crying.
Merlin sits himself on the floor, now, knee to knee with Mordred.
“Mordred, that woman was Kara.”
Merlin can see that this news has left Mordred completely befuddled; he is gaping like a fish. Merlin sympathizes, remembering his own reaction when Gaius had told him Kara was Nimueh
“But, but,” Mordred stammers and blinks, working hard to get words out of his mouth. Now he closes his eyes. Merlin waits. Mordred inhales and opens his eyes.
“You are telling me, that my Kara is the same as this sorceress who threatened Camelot all those years ago? That,” he breaks off, shaking his head, “that just doesn’t make any sense. Kara, my Kara, was a druid girl. I grew up with her. She was always at my side.”
“When, exactly, did you meet her?” Merlin asks softly.
Look directly at Merlin, he says, “When I was about 10, she moved into our camp. Someone had found her because of her ability to speak mind-to-mind.” He trails off.
Mordred swipes his sleeve across his nose. He opens his mouth and then closes it, hard. His eyes dart back and forth, as though searching for truths in the crevasses of the stone walls while sorting through his own memories.
“You believe me, now, don’t you?”
Mordred nods slowly, eyes brimming with tears again. Voice cracking, he says, “I thought she was the other half of my heart. I’m truly alone now.”
Merlin reaches out, wrapping his arms around Mordred, who is softly weeping now.
“How could I have been so stupid? All this time, she’s been using me and I was on the verge of betraying Arthur and you and...”
“Shhh. Shhh. I’m here. Nothing has happened yet.”
Mordred grabs at Merlin’s sleeve. “Please, don’t leave.”
Merlin wrestles with his conscience. He knows that Arthur will be expecting him at the execution, but he feels a stronger duty to stay with Mordred. Maybe this is his destiny. Maybe he can still save Arthur.
“I’m not leaving, Mordred. We will wait until Arthur comes down to fetch us.”
Merlin does not let go of Mordred, even when Kara’s life slips from her as the platform is jerked from underneath her. He does not let go when Mordred screams, despite himself, and blows the hinges off the door. He does not let go when Arthur approaches and puts his hands out to the men huddled on the cold floor together.
When Arthur pulls them up and takes them both into his strong arms, Merlin is glad that Arthur seems to understand he’s necessary.
“I am so sorry, Mordred,” Arthur whispers, tears breaking his voice. “Come, let us comfort you, as best we can.”
Later, Merlin turns to Arthur and whispers, “How did you know?”
“Merlin, did you really think I would not notice your absence at the execution?”
Merlin smiles. “Of course not, sire.”
This entry was originally posted at http://jelazakazone.dreamwidth.org/818610.html. Feel free to comment here or there.
Kara. Kara. That name tumbles around Merlin’s mind. He knows he’s heard it before, but where. As he goes about his duties, he thinks about other things, not Kara, until it comes to him in a snap when he’s elbow deep in warm water washing the king’s laundry. Back aching from the familiar chore, he remembers another Kara all those years ago. As the clothes churn through the water, thoughts tumble in his mind.
Kara had been a pretty serving maid when Bayard had come to court -- when he had drunk the poison for Arthur. Merlin sighs, remembering how pretty she had been and then he remembers that she alone had disappeared from Bayard’s party. He does not know how she came back, but he is certain is the same girl. Jolting upright, laundry forgotten, he runs out of the kitchen, desperate to share his revelation with Arthur, dripping water as he goes.
In the corridor, he comes to his senses. It’s the middle of the night! He can’t talk to Arthur now. Besides, he realizes it’s not actually Arthur’s problem. This might be the key to turning their destinies around. He has just resolved to head to the dungeons when a voice touches his mind.
Emrys! Please!
Merlin shivers as echoes of that plea from eight years ago tug at him. He knows the pain Mordred is feeling, understands better than anyone the agony the young man is going through. Too tired to fight prophecies that cloud his mind, he turns his steps towards the dungeon.
Merlin treads lightly across the stone floor, worn boot soles hardly leaving a sound. His breath catches at the sight of Mordred, curled in upon himself, broken. Silent sobs wrack his slight frame, tears stain his face. Merlin’s heart softens further.
The warlock nods at the guards, who let him pass without comment. This is not the first time he has visited a prisoner.
“Mordred,” Merlin whispers, gripping the bars. Mordred seems too caught up in his own heartbreak to notice Merlin’s presence. Merlin tries again, “Mordred,” a little louder, but to no avail.
His heart twists at Mordred’s agony. Mordred.
Mordred looks up, directly at him, finally noticing him. Relief floods through Merlin.. He can still reach the boy.
Merlin looks at a guard and motions for him to unlock the cell. He slips inside and the key turns, locking them both in, but Merlin barely registers this. He is focused on Mordred. Everything hinges on how Mordred reacts.
Merlin kneels down, grasping Mordred’s rough, chapped hands in his own still damp ones. Mordred looks down at their joined hands and looks back at Merlin, as though he might be at the end of a very long rope that has been thrown into a deep pit.
“Mordred, I think you are not going to like what I am going to tell you.” Merlin pauses, steeling himself, mulling over how he can convey that he is acting in everyone’s best interest. “Can you just listen and think about what I have to say?”
Mordred takes in a wet, snuffly breath and nods. Merlin squeezes Mordred’s hand softly, trying to reassure him through his touch. He inhales, closes his eyes, and then starts.
“I know you think Arthur has betrayed you, but he has not. When I first came to Camelot, almost ten years ago, there was a powerful sorceress who wanted to kill Arthur.” He shakes his head. No that isn’t right. “Wait. She wanted to wreak havoc in the kingdoms, and she wanted to kill me,” he ends sadly.
Confused, Mordred shakes his head. “What does this have to do with me?” he asks, voice husky from crying.
Merlin sits himself on the floor, now, knee to knee with Mordred.
“Mordred, that woman was Kara.”
Merlin can see that this news has left Mordred completely befuddled; he is gaping like a fish. Merlin sympathizes, remembering his own reaction when Gaius had told him Kara was Nimueh
“But, but,” Mordred stammers and blinks, working hard to get words out of his mouth. Now he closes his eyes. Merlin waits. Mordred inhales and opens his eyes.
“You are telling me, that my Kara is the same as this sorceress who threatened Camelot all those years ago? That,” he breaks off, shaking his head, “that just doesn’t make any sense. Kara, my Kara, was a druid girl. I grew up with her. She was always at my side.”
“When, exactly, did you meet her?” Merlin asks softly.
Look directly at Merlin, he says, “When I was about 10, she moved into our camp. Someone had found her because of her ability to speak mind-to-mind.” He trails off.
Mordred swipes his sleeve across his nose. He opens his mouth and then closes it, hard. His eyes dart back and forth, as though searching for truths in the crevasses of the stone walls while sorting through his own memories.
“You believe me, now, don’t you?”
Mordred nods slowly, eyes brimming with tears again. Voice cracking, he says, “I thought she was the other half of my heart. I’m truly alone now.”
Merlin reaches out, wrapping his arms around Mordred, who is softly weeping now.
“How could I have been so stupid? All this time, she’s been using me and I was on the verge of betraying Arthur and you and...”
“Shhh. Shhh. I’m here. Nothing has happened yet.”
Mordred grabs at Merlin’s sleeve. “Please, don’t leave.”
Merlin wrestles with his conscience. He knows that Arthur will be expecting him at the execution, but he feels a stronger duty to stay with Mordred. Maybe this is his destiny. Maybe he can still save Arthur.
“I’m not leaving, Mordred. We will wait until Arthur comes down to fetch us.”
Merlin does not let go of Mordred, even when Kara’s life slips from her as the platform is jerked from underneath her. He does not let go when Mordred screams, despite himself, and blows the hinges off the door. He does not let go when Arthur approaches and puts his hands out to the men huddled on the cold floor together.
When Arthur pulls them up and takes them both into his strong arms, Merlin is glad that Arthur seems to understand he’s necessary.
“I am so sorry, Mordred,” Arthur whispers, tears breaking his voice. “Come, let us comfort you, as best we can.”
Later, Merlin turns to Arthur and whispers, “How did you know?”
“Merlin, did you really think I would not notice your absence at the execution?”
Merlin smiles. “Of course not, sire.”
This entry was originally posted at http://jelazakazone.dreamwidth.org/818610.html. Feel free to comment here or there.