Double Drabble: By Means of Fire (Merlin/Arthur, wing!verse AU)
Summary: This leads Aristotle in turn to the demonstrated fact that God, glory and majesty to Him, does not do things by direct contact. God burns things by means of fire. -- Maimonides (AN: Same universe as Sublimity. For blincolin, because she wanted it.)
By Means of Fire
Just as suddenly as it began, the hard rain stops. The cup of life glints up from the ground of the dirty alley, its silvery edge reflecting a distant light.
Nimueh--what's left of Nimueh--lies curled against the brick wall. And, God, there is so much blood. Merlin looks down at her blankly, unmoved. Arthur feels slightly sick.
"You killed her."
Merlin shrugs. Red splatters stain his pale semi-translucent wings. "She tried to hurt you." Like it's that simple. His wings spread up and out and vanish, brushing against the sky.
All around them glistens broken glass from blown-out windows. The alley smells of blood and garbage, a dead-end.
Merlin's back hits the wall with a satisfying jar but he doesn't wince, doesn't blink. He stares at Arthur calmly, traces of gold still flickering in his eyes.
"Stop it. I know you feel things." And Arthur kisses his cool still mouth, hands skimming up from Merlin's shoulders to frame his face, and thinks, come on. And yes. And finally please.
Merlin's hands come up between them, as though to shove Arthur away, pressing against his chest. Then with a pained and startled gasp Merlin begins to kiss him back.
By Means of Fire
Just as suddenly as it began, the hard rain stops. The cup of life glints up from the ground of the dirty alley, its silvery edge reflecting a distant light.
Nimueh--what's left of Nimueh--lies curled against the brick wall. And, God, there is so much blood. Merlin looks down at her blankly, unmoved. Arthur feels slightly sick.
"You killed her."
Merlin shrugs. Red splatters stain his pale semi-translucent wings. "She tried to hurt you." Like it's that simple. His wings spread up and out and vanish, brushing against the sky.
All around them glistens broken glass from blown-out windows. The alley smells of blood and garbage, a dead-end.
Merlin's back hits the wall with a satisfying jar but he doesn't wince, doesn't blink. He stares at Arthur calmly, traces of gold still flickering in his eyes.
"Stop it. I know you feel things." And Arthur kisses his cool still mouth, hands skimming up from Merlin's shoulders to frame his face, and thinks, come on. And yes. And finally please.
Merlin's hands come up between them, as though to shove Arthur away, pressing against his chest. Then with a pained and startled gasp Merlin begins to kiss him back.