Fic: Exile
Title: Exile
Fandom: Merlin
Pairing: Merlin/Arthur
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: In no way mine or anything to do with me. I own nothing.
Summary: "You have to leave, he knows what you are, he knows what you both are."
AN: 'Exile' cliche for cliche_bingo .
"You have to leave, he knows what you are, he knows what you both are."
It was cold even before the sun went down, now it was colder still, the wind curling under and through Merlin's clothes. Though he couldn't quite force himself to move closer to the fire.
Morgana seemed to share his stubbornness, though he thought maybe her restraint was fed more by fury.
"He should have fought for you," she said fiercely. Her hair was a tangle of curls, fire light making it unnaturally bright. Merlin could pick out where their flight through the forest had left bits of twig and leaf strewn in the depths of it. Though she still managed to look regal and beautiful. Still holding onto her clipped fury miles from Camelot.
Miles.
"He shouldn't have had to," Merlin told her. Which felt like the truth, sounded like the truth, but it still hurt. It felt like he'd taken off into the night and left everything that was important to him behind. He couldn't quite convince himself that that wasn't true.
"He should have fought and not sent you off into the night like he's ashamed of everything you are," Morgana continued, twisting the fine cloth of her sleeves in her fingers.
"Uther-"
"Doesn't deserve our understanding," Morgana's words were flat and certain. The fire crackled and the shift of light and shadow made her face look unreal.
"Uther isn't evil," Merlin said carefully.
"If not evil then blind and mad," Morgana's words and eyes reflected completely different emotions. Merlin pretended not to see how deeply she was hurt.
"Only so far as magic is concerned."
Morgana caught his hand and her fingers were cold. In this windswept wood in the middle of nowhere her hands were ice. Though her words were still bright hot.
"Merlin you are magic and, whether I like or not, so am I."
"That doesn't mean we should-" he stopped.
"Doesn't mean we should what?" She squeezed his hand. "Doesn't mean we should fight back."
He said nothing, and he imagined he could feel her frustration, her anger, radiating through the skin.
"Because of Arthur," she said in response to his silence, and it wasn't a question.
"Because of Arthur," he agreed.
"You love him?"
Merlin said nothing, but he didn't think it mattered. Morgana gave a quiet amused laugh and shook her head.
"I can't-" Merlin stopped again, because he couldn't think of any way to explain.
"He's a fool, he's a fool and he doesn't deserve you," Morgana's voice was softer now. She released his hand.
"I can't protect him here," Merlin told her quietly. He didn't mean to be so honest but it had been a thought tumbling round his head since they left the city.
Morgana made an unladylike noise of frustration.
"I think he's protecting you for once."
"I can protect myself," Merlin protested
"All too well I think," Morgana said softly.
He said nothing and waited for her to continue, to explain. But she refused, stared into the trees instead.
"How far are we to go Merlin? Me a noblewoman without a house or a husband, and you a sorcerer, now both of us have nothing."
Merlin shook his head. "We don't have nothing."
Morgana gave him a sympathetic look, as if to placate a child.
"Merlin-"
"We have Arthur," his voice was quiet but fierce.
Morgana was still for a long moment, she stared at him as if to see if he really believed that.
He did and it hurt more than he thought it should. That overwhelming feeling of faith.
Morgana seemed to read it in his face, she exhaled quietly, gently, and said nothing more.
Fandom: Merlin
Pairing: Merlin/Arthur
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: In no way mine or anything to do with me. I own nothing.
Summary: "You have to leave, he knows what you are, he knows what you both are."
AN: 'Exile' cliche for cliche_bingo .
"You have to leave, he knows what you are, he knows what you both are."
It was cold even before the sun went down, now it was colder still, the wind curling under and through Merlin's clothes. Though he couldn't quite force himself to move closer to the fire.
Morgana seemed to share his stubbornness, though he thought maybe her restraint was fed more by fury.
"He should have fought for you," she said fiercely. Her hair was a tangle of curls, fire light making it unnaturally bright. Merlin could pick out where their flight through the forest had left bits of twig and leaf strewn in the depths of it. Though she still managed to look regal and beautiful. Still holding onto her clipped fury miles from Camelot.
Miles.
"He shouldn't have had to," Merlin told her. Which felt like the truth, sounded like the truth, but it still hurt. It felt like he'd taken off into the night and left everything that was important to him behind. He couldn't quite convince himself that that wasn't true.
"He should have fought and not sent you off into the night like he's ashamed of everything you are," Morgana continued, twisting the fine cloth of her sleeves in her fingers.
"Uther-"
"Doesn't deserve our understanding," Morgana's words were flat and certain. The fire crackled and the shift of light and shadow made her face look unreal.
"Uther isn't evil," Merlin said carefully.
"If not evil then blind and mad," Morgana's words and eyes reflected completely different emotions. Merlin pretended not to see how deeply she was hurt.
"Only so far as magic is concerned."
Morgana caught his hand and her fingers were cold. In this windswept wood in the middle of nowhere her hands were ice. Though her words were still bright hot.
"Merlin you are magic and, whether I like or not, so am I."
"That doesn't mean we should-" he stopped.
"Doesn't mean we should what?" She squeezed his hand. "Doesn't mean we should fight back."
He said nothing, and he imagined he could feel her frustration, her anger, radiating through the skin.
"Because of Arthur," she said in response to his silence, and it wasn't a question.
"Because of Arthur," he agreed.
"You love him?"
Merlin said nothing, but he didn't think it mattered. Morgana gave a quiet amused laugh and shook her head.
"I can't-" Merlin stopped again, because he couldn't think of any way to explain.
"He's a fool, he's a fool and he doesn't deserve you," Morgana's voice was softer now. She released his hand.
"I can't protect him here," Merlin told her quietly. He didn't mean to be so honest but it had been a thought tumbling round his head since they left the city.
Morgana made an unladylike noise of frustration.
"I think he's protecting you for once."
"I can protect myself," Merlin protested
"All too well I think," Morgana said softly.
He said nothing and waited for her to continue, to explain. But she refused, stared into the trees instead.
"How far are we to go Merlin? Me a noblewoman without a house or a husband, and you a sorcerer, now both of us have nothing."
Merlin shook his head. "We don't have nothing."
Morgana gave him a sympathetic look, as if to placate a child.
"Merlin-"
"We have Arthur," his voice was quiet but fierce.
Morgana was still for a long moment, she stared at him as if to see if he really believed that.
He did and it hurt more than he thought it should. That overwhelming feeling of faith.
Morgana seemed to read it in his face, she exhaled quietly, gently, and said nothing more.