Merlin - Nightmare's Reprise [Het- Morgana/Arthur, PG13]
Title: Nightmare's Reprise
Word Count: 220
Pairing: Morgana/Arthur
Prompt: The alphabet meme - 'You could be a sweet dream or a beautiful nightmare/Either way I don't wanna wake up from you...' for
borg_princess (still accepting prompts here)
Spoilers: Missing scene from 1x13 'Le Morte d'Arthur'
The candles flicker below the window, small beacons in the cold night, like whispers from a long-forgotten memory. She doesn't look at the faces of the people holding them - she already knows their sorrow more deeply than they themselves can understand.
"Are you going to see him?" Gwen asks timidly, setting down the blanket she's been folding and refolding by the bed in her worry.
The room is dark - she'd refused a fire - and the wet, despairing cold seems to creep over the kingdom to match their mourning. She rests her forehead against the window pane, the cool glass grounding her, and doesn't answer.
She doesn't need to see him. His face is etched into her dreams, drawn and sickly in a way that terrifies her more than she's willing to admit. She's seen him shivering, seen his brow creased in feverish pain, seen his laboured breathing slow to a halt...
She's already dreamt it, but then, that's nothing new. She's dreamt so many things. Horrible things.
"This is only the beginning," she whispers to the glass, her breath a small round fog that distorts the image of the mourners, her eyes closing. She won't see him, not like this. Instead, she sleeps, and hopes that time will bring a dream with a happier ending for them both.
Fin.
Word Count: 220
Pairing: Morgana/Arthur
Prompt: The alphabet meme - 'You could be a sweet dream or a beautiful nightmare/Either way I don't wanna wake up from you...' for
borg_princess (still accepting prompts here)
Spoilers: Missing scene from 1x13 'Le Morte d'Arthur'
The candles flicker below the window, small beacons in the cold night, like whispers from a long-forgotten memory. She doesn't look at the faces of the people holding them - she already knows their sorrow more deeply than they themselves can understand.
"Are you going to see him?" Gwen asks timidly, setting down the blanket she's been folding and refolding by the bed in her worry.
The room is dark - she'd refused a fire - and the wet, despairing cold seems to creep over the kingdom to match their mourning. She rests her forehead against the window pane, the cool glass grounding her, and doesn't answer.
She doesn't need to see him. His face is etched into her dreams, drawn and sickly in a way that terrifies her more than she's willing to admit. She's seen him shivering, seen his brow creased in feverish pain, seen his laboured breathing slow to a halt...
She's already dreamt it, but then, that's nothing new. She's dreamt so many things. Horrible things.
"This is only the beginning," she whispers to the glass, her breath a small round fog that distorts the image of the mourners, her eyes closing. She won't see him, not like this. Instead, she sleeps, and hopes that time will bring a dream with a happier ending for them both.
Fin.