Ordinary (G)
Title: Ordinary
Author: justthismorning
Rating: G
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin
Summary: Morgana doesn't need to magic to see.
A/N: sort of a continuation of Precious. You don't have to read that one to understand this one.
It’s not like one of those things she sees in her dreams. It isn’t like that at all. It’s not just for her to see, for her to know. If the rest of Camelot, the whole world even, can’t see it, it’s their blindness stopping them. It has nothing to do with magic, except that it has everything to do with it.
The heated gazes she catches when they’re not carefully guarding them, those could set fire to water. She keeps expecting to wake up to the news that a nearby lake has completely burned away and Merlin making up some bizarre story in explanation, the whole time grinning like a fool. Of course, when she imagines that scene, Arthur is there behind him, rolling his eyes and preparing to haul him off before Uther can stick the boy in the stocks again.
Sometimes, in the night, when she’s passing by the heavy wooden door of Arthur’s chambers, the whispers she hears shared in the small space between two mouths are enough to turn gravity upside down and stop time. Some day she hopes someone will share love like that with her, until she feels like she’s floating, until time slows down and the moment lasts forever. For now she’s happy to just press her ear to the door and smile at the muffled affections she’s not supposed to hear.
They communicate without talking, without looking. She’s seen them use words. She’s heard the harsh exasperation slipping from Arthur’s lips and the patient insults tumbling from Merlin’s. She’s seen the way Merlin pinches his brow in confusion when Arthur makes hand signals at him. She’s seen Arthur tilt his head and chew his lip when Merlin tries to share some secret or warning by widening his eyes in that universal expression. They botch real communication beyond recognition, but they don’t need it anyway. They don’t need it because when one is sad, or lonely, insecure or homesick and needing someone, the other always finds him, and she can almost see the comfort surrounding their silent figures as they stand inches from each other, both staring out at nothing.
It’s a secret they guard as though it really were sorcery, as though their lives depended on it. They keep it hidden behind the veil of night, and under the weight of silence and shielded like a terrible secret worth Uther’s wrath. They keep it secret like it never should be. It’s not magic, except that it is.
Author: justthismorning
Rating: G
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin
Summary: Morgana doesn't need to magic to see.
A/N: sort of a continuation of Precious. You don't have to read that one to understand this one.
It’s not like one of those things she sees in her dreams. It isn’t like that at all. It’s not just for her to see, for her to know. If the rest of Camelot, the whole world even, can’t see it, it’s their blindness stopping them. It has nothing to do with magic, except that it has everything to do with it.
The heated gazes she catches when they’re not carefully guarding them, those could set fire to water. She keeps expecting to wake up to the news that a nearby lake has completely burned away and Merlin making up some bizarre story in explanation, the whole time grinning like a fool. Of course, when she imagines that scene, Arthur is there behind him, rolling his eyes and preparing to haul him off before Uther can stick the boy in the stocks again.
Sometimes, in the night, when she’s passing by the heavy wooden door of Arthur’s chambers, the whispers she hears shared in the small space between two mouths are enough to turn gravity upside down and stop time. Some day she hopes someone will share love like that with her, until she feels like she’s floating, until time slows down and the moment lasts forever. For now she’s happy to just press her ear to the door and smile at the muffled affections she’s not supposed to hear.
They communicate without talking, without looking. She’s seen them use words. She’s heard the harsh exasperation slipping from Arthur’s lips and the patient insults tumbling from Merlin’s. She’s seen the way Merlin pinches his brow in confusion when Arthur makes hand signals at him. She’s seen Arthur tilt his head and chew his lip when Merlin tries to share some secret or warning by widening his eyes in that universal expression. They botch real communication beyond recognition, but they don’t need it anyway. They don’t need it because when one is sad, or lonely, insecure or homesick and needing someone, the other always finds him, and she can almost see the comfort surrounding their silent figures as they stand inches from each other, both staring out at nothing.
It’s a secret they guard as though it really were sorcery, as though their lives depended on it. They keep it hidden behind the veil of night, and under the weight of silence and shielded like a terrible secret worth Uther’s wrath. They keep it secret like it never should be. It’s not magic, except that it is.