Mememe

[angstslashhope]

Doing this belatedly because my holiday schedule has slowed down a bit, and my writing neurons are firing, and my typing fingers need warming up, so:

Pick one of my [Merlin] stories and a timestamp sometime in the future after the end of the story, or sometime in the past before the story started, and I'll write you at least a hundred words of

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The day after As Fey Would Have It (1/3)

[angstslashhope]

Merlin wakes at dawn, so immediately aware that he wonders whether he was asleep at all, or just drifting. Dim light is washing into the clearing, and the sweet-brackish scent of the loam lingers close to the ground.

Gwaine is warm against his back--and still asleep from what Merlin can tell from his lack of tension or movement, not to mention the hot whuff of his sleepy breath against the back of Merlin's neck. Merlin finds himself grateful, for Gwaine's presence and the fact that he's not awake both. The feeling uncoils from a core of equilibrium that--while not exactly solid--is still present now, unlike yesterday

The day after As Fey Would Have It (2/3)

[angstslashhope]

He clenches his fists and shoves his bare feet into his boots--unsteady and cautious on his feet--and walks towards the sound of the river

The day after As Fey Would Have It (3/3)

[angstslashhope]

Merlin resolves to ignore him, and remains kneeling in the water despite the hard river stones digging up into his shins. After a few more moments--where he can practically sense Lancelot's concern radiating at him from the shore--he unclenches his fists and cups water in his hands to pour over his neck and shoulders. He follows the flow with the scrub of the palms, the last residue of yesterday morning (their mouths, his come) turning almost silky against his skin before it washes away