Author's spiel: Hello everyone! This is my very first story here and I am super excited. I was planning on doing a Snobaz oneshot I have planned first, but I haven't written that one yet, and I have finished this one, and I just got bored today and wanted to post. So. Yeah...

A couple of things: my main character may or may not basically be me. I leave decisions of how much she is me or not up to you. Also, like I said, I've already pretty much finished this story. It is not a oneshot, however, so I will be posting a chapter (or more if they're short) a week, probably on Fridays because that's when I have time. I suspect I'll likely do this with all my multi-chapter fics - the whole post-and-have-people-anxious-for-the-next-installment thing kind of stresses me out, and I have enough stress in my life. And just one last thing...

*I AM WARNING YOU NOW* This story is literally all fluff (mostly romance and angst, and a whole heck of a lot of talking.) If that isn't your thing...then I'm sorry. I just don't want to have people read this (if people read this) and expect something that isn't going to happen. I wrote this solely for my enjoyment and wish-fulfillment, and if people chose to read it and like it, that's even better. If you don't...well, just be nice about it ok?

Reviews and comments would certainly be appreciated; like I said, I'm super excited I'm finally doing this!

I don't own Merlin or Mordred or anything like that.

1

Pond Crossing

I was at my wit's end. I shifted in my seat and glanced at the screen. I glanced away. I glanced back at it, only to find the same tiny, airplane TV unchanged and glaring back at me. I looked over at my travel companions. Mom was asleep, occasionally letting loose a loud snore, and Colin was engrossed with his videos on his computer. They would not be providing any relief. I envied them their diversions. This plane ride was going to be the death of me!

"It's worth it," I told myself, "London! You'll get to see the things you didn't the first time around!" My stomach gave a violent twist. The toxic mix of excitement and nerves brought some life back into me after five very long hours of sitting on this plane.

"There's only three hours left! Surely you could fill them with something on the TV…" That did it! I gave in to temptation and turned the evil screen on. I tried to put off watching TV on planes because it only made a person more tired. I reserved it for a last resort kind of thing.

While the screen was warming up, I rummaged around in my bag to find my headphones. With them in hand, I sat back up and scrolled through the choices for something to watch. Nothing inspired me in the movie section, so I thought I'd take a gander at the TV shows. They usually didn't have anything good, but perhaps my horseshoes would help me out.

I scrolled through, and then did a double take. Oh thank the television gods above! I also sent a brief message of thanks to my horseshoes. This was better than sleep or YouTube any day!

"Merlin," I breathed. Yes, the amazing TV show itself, and probably my favourite one (I'm sorry OUAT!) was on the airplane TV. This was probably my third or fourth time watching it over. I couldn't really explain my love for that show. When I really, really liked something, I got what could be called obsessive and freaky about it. I didn't think about anything else, and nothing less than the entire product itself would satisfy. This happened a lot with musicals and movies and books, but I'd never really gotten into a TV show like that, before Merlin, that is! It was such a good story, a well-known story (the King Arthur legend, with a fresh twist!) and with such fabulous characters and actors too. Perhaps that was why I adored it so much.

Anyway, I scrolled through the episodes to find where I had last watched. Ah, there we were! Season 5, Episode 10, right afterWith All My Heart, an episode I repeatedly watched when in need of a Merlin fix. It had the perfect amount of humour and romance, had an altercation with Morgana and Aithusa, some Percival near the beginning, and a lovely amount of Mordred being all noble. Episode 10 was the episode with the Druid sorceress Finna. It was a good episode, but it made me sad, because I knew what was coming.

If you're at all familiar with the legends of King Arthur, then the name Mordred should also ring a bell. He was the one who mortally wounded Arthur at the battle of Camlann, and I adored him. I adored him too much, because he started off good, but wound up becoming evil and killing Arthur, whom I also adored. But what could I say? The heart wanted what the heart wanted, and for some reason, my heart liked the villains!

I watched the Episode 10, and the next two, gladly and without interruption (minus the pilot's announcement as the credits of Episode 12 rolled that we were starting our descent!) I figured I had enough time to watch Episode 13, even though I knew what that would do to me. I watched it anyway. When Arthur stabbed Mordred, the tears came, like they did every time I watched it. I put my head in my hands, hoping nobody would notice my tears. I didn't like crying in public, and crying over a TV show was just embarrassing! Mordred's death though…God, it was just so preventable! I knew that in the legends, he was just supposed to be evil and messed up, and that it was only the different take on the legends that Merlin had chosen that made him good in the first place. Still, if Mordred was a real person, I figured I would risk life and limb to save him. He held a special place in my heart, partly because I felt I could identify with him in some small way. The other part was because the actor who played him was incredibly smoking hot, but that was beside the point!

I felt a hand on my shoulder, and looked up into Mom's concerned face.

"What's wrong sweetie? Are you ok?"

I nodded and wiped my eyes. "Sorry. I found Merlin on the TV and Mordred died…" I didn't add 'again' but I knew Mom was thinking it. She and Colin just didn't understand my repetition thing! Mom sighed, leaning back into her seat. Within moments, she was asleep again. I finished the episode, then closed my eyes. I wasn't trying to sleep (I knew a futile mission when I thought of one!) but I was hoping that with closed eyelids, Excalibur running Mordred through would stop replaying in my mind. No such luck. It just made it easier to picture the heartbroken smile on Mordred's face as he died. I felt a sob building up, but I choked it back down. No sense in making myself look crazier than I already was!

By the time the plane had landed and we had gotten off, I was worn and tired. It was shortly after noon in London, but with the time change and my sleepless flight, who knew what time I was actually running on. We dragged our tired feet to a cab, and then from the cab to the hotel room. The rest of the day was spent planning the upcoming day and the next couple of days after, and eating. When night finally rolled around, everyone turned in blissfully early.

After I'd gone through my pre-sleep routine, I lay down on my bed and stared up at the ceiling. As tired as I was, I wasn't ready to close my eyes just yet. Mordred's death scene from the episode on the plane was still haunting me, which was really bugging me out! I'd watched that scene at least twenty times (counting YouTube videos and stuff) but it had never affected me like this before. Maybe it was just because I was over tired, but I didn't know.

I sang songs in my head until I was so tired I couldn't remember the lyrics to even the ones from Wicked. Then, finally, I allowed myself to close my eyes. Thankfully, no death scenes of favourite characters greeted me. I breathed a sigh of relief and sunk into a deep sleep.