Always- A M+M Fanfiction
Title: Always
Author: sariza
Rating: M
Word Count: 1,030
Characters/Pairings: Merlin/Morgana
Summary: Although privy to what the future holds, Merlin and Morgana are unable to change their destiny or their feelings for each other.
Notes: First Merlin/Morgana fic and first try at sexiness so...enjoy!
~*~ Like foxfire, in the tawn moonlight,was glimmering cold. with soft gray eyes she gloomed and glowered; with soft red lips she sang a song ~*~
“You have seen them?” Merlin asks. Morgana is sitting across from him. There on the table between them is a small pile of book. Every fortnight or so, they do this. Gather all the books they can on magic and study.
“Yes. She looked beyond beautiful.” Morgana says back, her voice slightly tinged with a sadness so small it would go completely unnoticed by even the most observant of people.
“Gwen will be a great queen.” He says because it’s the only thing he can think to say and its true.
“Yes but,” Morgan’s mouth hangs open as if the words are struggling to escape. She closes her mouth promptly though because ladies do not gape and she purses her lips shut.
“What?” He asks curiously. He sees her hesitation and knows she has a secret. He gave her that look many a time before his powers were revealed and she forgave his lies (or ‘not-truths’ as he had liked to call them.)
“Its nothing.” She answers too soon for him to be satisfied but he lets it go. It is silent then only the sound of pages turning, Merlin can’t stand silence. It hurts his ears.
“What about us?”
“What about us, Merlin?” she sounds exasperated. She always hoped he would never ask so she would never have to answer. But Merlin always asks the hard questions. He makes her question herself and others.
“Do you see us in the future?” Of course, she has. She has seen it, felt it, she desperately wishes she could change it. She simply says:
“Yes I have” Merlin waits for her to continue but she doesn’t
“And?”
“We don’t get a happy ending.” She states plainly without remorse. It’s a true statement and only that. He doesn’t answer right away. So they sit in a silence that is neither awkward nor foreboding. Merlin eventually leans over the table they’re sitting at to place a chaste kiss upon Morgana’s lips. The kiss is short and leaves her staring at him as he seats himself back down. At her look, he answers simply:
“We could have a happy beginning.” An although she has seen where this story ends, she can’t bring herself to stop its beginning.
~*~ how should he know the wily witch, with sweet white face and raven hair? who, through her art, bewitched his heart and held him there eftsoons his soul had waxed amort to wold and weald, to slade and stream; and all he heard was her soft word as one a dream ~*~
A kiss goodnight turns into more than just a brush of lips. Soon they are kissing more intensely and when they final break apart their breathing had become heavy. His hands on her hips guide them to the bed. She moves her mouth close to his, but before their lips touch she pulls away. Her smile is teasing as she says, “Do you want me?”
His answer is “Always, days, years, eternities.” She grabs the back of his neck crashing their mouths together once more. Their actions are progressing both too slowly and too quickly, Morgana thinks. They cling together. Their hands are restlessly roaming the depths of each other’s skin. First fingers touching tenderly then hot moist lips. They fall back onto the bed. Merlin’s hands hold her face gently as if it was easily bruised - fragile like the wilting flowers on her bedside table. The tips of his finger trace her features. They are all distinct, all strong, and all beautiful. She takes his hand from her face. Places kisses upon it before placing kisses all over his face muttering in a language only they two understand. Morgana drinks in the scent of his skin. It reminds her of rain during a midsummer night. He buries his nose in her tangled hair. Each nerve sings songs of their mounting desire. They do this together as they do everything together-with patience and ignorance of the future consequences. Their movements each blissful, bursting, thrusting, thirsting, burning, movement has them on edge. It is magic. Their magic-- strong and powerful and secret. It lives in their blood, flows in their veins, pumps to their heats, gives them life, ensuring them death. They relinquished everything to their senses by then. Abandoning all to touch, to feel, harder, faster, deeper until they became blind in white hot crashing climax of their spell filling their bodies with a warm calming peace as a chalice brimming overflowing with a rich wine. He places gentle kisses along her jaw as she trembles in the aftermath. When he reaches her ear, he whispers so quickly “always, my only”.
~*~ For all her looks were full of spells and all her words, of sorcery and in some way they seemed to say, oh, come with me! ~*~
“Morgana!” Her name, once whispered in reverence, now leaves his lips as a painfully angry shout. She turns to him. She knew this would happen. She saw it years before but she never knew it would be like this, this hard. Never knew it would be her hands to shape their fall.
“Why?” he asks. His voice makes her want to throw herself to the ground and beg forgiveness. But Morgana has never been one to walk o her knees.
“Merlin, you are blinded by your devotion and love of my brother. Can’t you see? Arthur will always be a better man and King than his father, but that doesn’t change the cold truth that magic will never be wholly free with a Pendragon on the throne.”
“No, that’s not true” Merlin held to his convictions.
“It is and always will be truth.”
“No!”
“Merlin,” She says softly, walking toward her lost lover. “Come with me. You don’t belong in Camelot. You belong to the earth, with the druids, they can teach you so much and you can be free.” She places her hand on his cheek. “You can be with me.” Merlin pulls away.
“Morgana-You know I can’t, Arthur needs me. You may be able to abandon Gwen, but I will not abandon my friends.”
“Fine!” She stars him down her eyes dark and gold at the mention of her best friend-- the servant queen. “She turns away from him. He does the same. “Merlin” she says. He stops and listens to her last words but he doesn’t turn to face her. “Always, my only.” He swears he can feel his heart break into pieces in his chest. He doesn’t reply. He walks away and when Morgana makes it back to camp, she cries so hard the earth shakes. Merlin pretends not to notice.
~*~ And on his body, bent and bowed,the hundred blades as one blade fell: while over all rang long and loud the mirth of Hell. ~*~
fin
The poem is Morgan Le Fay By: Madison Cawein
Author: sariza
Rating: M
Word Count: 1,030
Characters/Pairings: Merlin/Morgana
Summary: Although privy to what the future holds, Merlin and Morgana are unable to change their destiny or their feelings for each other.
Notes: First Merlin/Morgana fic and first try at sexiness so...enjoy!
~*~ Like foxfire, in the tawn moonlight,was glimmering cold. with soft gray eyes she gloomed and glowered; with soft red lips she sang a song ~*~
“You have seen them?” Merlin asks. Morgana is sitting across from him. There on the table between them is a small pile of book. Every fortnight or so, they do this. Gather all the books they can on magic and study.
“Yes. She looked beyond beautiful.” Morgana says back, her voice slightly tinged with a sadness so small it would go completely unnoticed by even the most observant of people.
“Gwen will be a great queen.” He says because it’s the only thing he can think to say and its true.
“Yes but,” Morgan’s mouth hangs open as if the words are struggling to escape. She closes her mouth promptly though because ladies do not gape and she purses her lips shut.
“What?” He asks curiously. He sees her hesitation and knows she has a secret. He gave her that look many a time before his powers were revealed and she forgave his lies (or ‘not-truths’ as he had liked to call them.)
“Its nothing.” She answers too soon for him to be satisfied but he lets it go. It is silent then only the sound of pages turning, Merlin can’t stand silence. It hurts his ears.
“What about us?”
“What about us, Merlin?” she sounds exasperated. She always hoped he would never ask so she would never have to answer. But Merlin always asks the hard questions. He makes her question herself and others.
“Do you see us in the future?” Of course, she has. She has seen it, felt it, she desperately wishes she could change it. She simply says:
“Yes I have” Merlin waits for her to continue but she doesn’t
“And?”
“We don’t get a happy ending.” She states plainly without remorse. It’s a true statement and only that. He doesn’t answer right away. So they sit in a silence that is neither awkward nor foreboding. Merlin eventually leans over the table they’re sitting at to place a chaste kiss upon Morgana’s lips. The kiss is short and leaves her staring at him as he seats himself back down. At her look, he answers simply:
“We could have a happy beginning.” An although she has seen where this story ends, she can’t bring herself to stop its beginning.
~*~ how should he know the wily witch, with sweet white face and raven hair? who, through her art, bewitched his heart and held him there eftsoons his soul had waxed amort to wold and weald, to slade and stream; and all he heard was her soft word as one a dream ~*~
A kiss goodnight turns into more than just a brush of lips. Soon they are kissing more intensely and when they final break apart their breathing had become heavy. His hands on her hips guide them to the bed. She moves her mouth close to his, but before their lips touch she pulls away. Her smile is teasing as she says, “Do you want me?”
His answer is “Always, days, years, eternities.” She grabs the back of his neck crashing their mouths together once more. Their actions are progressing both too slowly and too quickly, Morgana thinks. They cling together. Their hands are restlessly roaming the depths of each other’s skin. First fingers touching tenderly then hot moist lips. They fall back onto the bed. Merlin’s hands hold her face gently as if it was easily bruised - fragile like the wilting flowers on her bedside table. The tips of his finger trace her features. They are all distinct, all strong, and all beautiful. She takes his hand from her face. Places kisses upon it before placing kisses all over his face muttering in a language only they two understand. Morgana drinks in the scent of his skin. It reminds her of rain during a midsummer night. He buries his nose in her tangled hair. Each nerve sings songs of their mounting desire. They do this together as they do everything together-with patience and ignorance of the future consequences. Their movements each blissful, bursting, thrusting, thirsting, burning, movement has them on edge. It is magic. Their magic-- strong and powerful and secret. It lives in their blood, flows in their veins, pumps to their heats, gives them life, ensuring them death. They relinquished everything to their senses by then. Abandoning all to touch, to feel, harder, faster, deeper until they became blind in white hot crashing climax of their spell filling their bodies with a warm calming peace as a chalice brimming overflowing with a rich wine. He places gentle kisses along her jaw as she trembles in the aftermath. When he reaches her ear, he whispers so quickly “always, my only”.
~*~ For all her looks were full of spells and all her words, of sorcery and in some way they seemed to say, oh, come with me! ~*~
“Morgana!” Her name, once whispered in reverence, now leaves his lips as a painfully angry shout. She turns to him. She knew this would happen. She saw it years before but she never knew it would be like this, this hard. Never knew it would be her hands to shape their fall.
“Why?” he asks. His voice makes her want to throw herself to the ground and beg forgiveness. But Morgana has never been one to walk o her knees.
“Merlin, you are blinded by your devotion and love of my brother. Can’t you see? Arthur will always be a better man and King than his father, but that doesn’t change the cold truth that magic will never be wholly free with a Pendragon on the throne.”
“No, that’s not true” Merlin held to his convictions.
“It is and always will be truth.”
“No!”
“Merlin,” She says softly, walking toward her lost lover. “Come with me. You don’t belong in Camelot. You belong to the earth, with the druids, they can teach you so much and you can be free.” She places her hand on his cheek. “You can be with me.” Merlin pulls away.
“Morgana-You know I can’t, Arthur needs me. You may be able to abandon Gwen, but I will not abandon my friends.”
“Fine!” She stars him down her eyes dark and gold at the mention of her best friend-- the servant queen. “She turns away from him. He does the same. “Merlin” she says. He stops and listens to her last words but he doesn’t turn to face her. “Always, my only.” He swears he can feel his heart break into pieces in his chest. He doesn’t reply. He walks away and when Morgana makes it back to camp, she cries so hard the earth shakes. Merlin pretends not to notice.
~*~ And on his body, bent and bowed,the hundred blades as one blade fell: while over all rang long and loud the mirth of Hell. ~*~
fin
The poem is Morgan Le Fay By: Madison Cawein