Strange World
Merlin's heart races, the sound of his footsteps pounding on the ground fills his ears and it's almost enough to drown out the yelling, the screaming, and the clash of swords dancing. He sees three skeleton soldiers corner Arthur, and he wants to stop, to fight by his side with his magic; as the Great Dragon had once said they would one day do.
But today is not that day. No, not yet. Give me a chance to save you first, is Merlin's only coherent thought as he pushes the doors to the vault open besides, Morgana. Morgana. Morgana.
Let me save you.
"Women and children are dying, Morgana!" Merlin cries, holding himself together as he folds his arms in front of himself. He is supposed to look formidable, strong, dangerous, a voice in the back of his mind mocks. But he can't, not while he watches the one he loves get so lost within the darkness inside themselves. He cannot sit by and just watch.
Instead of replying, Morgana feels her chest tighten with the betrayal and the, god forbid love that she feels whenever she sees Merlin. His eyes, so blue, pierce into hers and straight into her soul and they seem to see her, truly see her unlike many others who only saw her as the King's ward, or merely a weak, spineless girl.
He saw her as she truly was, a lonely woman who wanted both to prove herself and yet also to be loved. These things could not be more different, or lie on more separate paths. "You poisoned me, Merlin," are the words that slip through her lips, though she wants nothing more than to collapse in his arms and beg for his forgiveness and his love, she has chosen a path.
And now, there was no going back.
Merlin's tears are freely flowing now, and he steps closer to Morgana unable to stand the distance between them that is filled with so much history, so much heartbreak. He wants to explain, to tell her that he loves her with everything he has, that every little broken shard of himself wanted to be hers. But there would also be the unspoken fact that though Merlin wanted to give everything of his to Morgana, a piece of his heart, no matter how small would also be Arthur's.
He wanted to tell her that he didn't have a choice, that she was going to kill Arthur. But that led it right back to the main problem didn't it? It was unspoken in the air, that by poisoning Morgana, Merlin had chosen Arthur. And it scared Merlin, and made him so infuriated with himself when he realizes that he would make the same decision again in a heartbeat.
"Morgana," Merlin whispers. He doesn't know what to say, what to feel, because he too had chosen a path. One of destiny and duty, a path that would by no means be easy, or painless. Oh yes, there would be a lot of pain. Merlin had been unable to bear it, ever since they had found Morgana, it had become worse, the pain prickling beneath his skin every time he saw her but was unable to touch her.
Every time they shared a glance, and the worst was that he no longer knew those eyes, he no longer saw the woman he understood and loved. He inches forward, laying a shaking hand on Morgana's cheek. He knew she would kill him if she had the chance to, and Merlin understood that. He would do the same.
Though they loved each other, their paths were like crossroads, meeting for a time being and as soon as it became comfortable, familiar, things had to change and they had to choose. Whose to say they chose wrong? Some might say it was their destiny to live on in history merely as two sorcerers who fought against each other for what they believed in.
But there will be whispers in the dark, grandmothers correcting their grandchildren that no, Merlin and Morgana did not always despise the other, for she had seen with her own eyes the lady and the servant in each others arms in the dead of night once, a long time ago.
These whispers will then take a life of their own; told in candle light where faces cannot truly be seen, the teller would weave together the legends of the true MoStrange World
Merlin's heart races, the sound of his footsteps pounding on the ground fills his ears and it's almost enough to drown out the yelling, the screaming, and the clash of swords dancing. He sees three skeleton soldiers corner Arthur, and he wants to stop, to fight by his side with his magic; as the Great Dragon had once said they would one day do.
But today is not that day. No, not yet. Give me a chance to save you first, is Merlin's only coherent thought as he pushes the doors to the vault open besides, Morgana. Morgana. Morgana.
Let me save you.
"Women and children are dying, Morgana!" Merlin cries, holding himself together as he folds his arms in front of himself. He is supposed to look formidable, strong, dangerous, a voice in the back of his mind mocks. But he can't, not while he watches the one he loves get so lost within the darkness inside themselves. He cannot sit by and just watch.
Instead of replying, Morgana feels her chest tighten with the betrayal and the, god forbid love that she feels whenever she sees Merlin. His eyes, so blue, pierce into hers and straight into her soul and they seem to see her, truly see her unlike many others who only saw her as the King's ward, or merely a weak, spineless girl.
He saw her as she truly was, a lonely woman who wanted both to prove herself and yet also to be loved. These things could not be more different, or lie on more separate paths. "You poisoned me, Merlin," are the words that slip through her lips, though she wants nothing more than to collapse in his arms and beg for his forgiveness and his love, she has chosen a path.
And now, there was no going back.
Merlin's tears are freely flowing now, and he steps closer to Morgana unable to stand the distance between them that is filled with so much history, so much heartbreak. He wants to explain, to tell her that he loves her with everything he has, that every little broken shard of himself wanted to be hers. But there would also be the unspoken fact that though Merlin wanted to give everything of his to Morgana, a piece of his heart, no matter how small would also be Arthur's.
He wanted to tell her that he didn't have a choice, that she was going to kill Arthur. But that led it right back to the main problem didn't it? It was unspoken in the air, that by poisoning Morgana, Merlin had chosen Arthur. And it scared Merlin, and made him so infuriated with himself when he realizes that he would make the same decision again in a heartbeat.
"Morgana," Merlin whispers. He doesn't know what to say, what to feel, because he too had chosen a path. One of destiny and duty, a path that would by no means be easy, or painless. Oh yes, there would be a lot of pain. Merlin had been unable to bear it, ever since they had found Morgana, it had become worse, the pain prickling beneath his skin every time he saw her but was unable to touch her.
Every time they shared a glance, and the worst was that he no longer knew those eyes, he no longer saw the woman he understood and loved. He inches forward, laying a shaking hand on Morgana's cheek. He knew she would kill him if she had the chance to, and Merlin understood that. He would do the same.
Though they loved each other, their paths were like crossroads, meeting for a time being and as soon as it became comfortable, familiar, things had to change and they had to choose. Whose to say they chose wrong? Some might say it was their destiny to live on in history merely as two sorcerers who fought against each other for what they believed in.
But there will be whispers in the dark, grandmothers correcting their grandchildren that no, Merlin and Morgana did not always despise the other, for she had seen with her own eyes the lady and the servant in each others arms in the dead of night once, a long time ago.
These whispers will then take a life of their own; told in candle light where faces cannot truly be seen, the teller would weave together the legends of the true Morgana and Merlin, before it all ended in bloodshed and tears, as all things do.
"Do you still love me?" The question is barely breathed, and both are unsure who had asked it, for it had been plaguing both of their minds. And they both answer, with a slight pressure of lips, before Morgana pulls away.
"You are a strange one, Merlin." She says, her eyes guarded once again, her stance defensive. Merlin steps back, knowing that the moment was over, if there ever truly was one. Merlin nods slowly but then rushes forward, the beating in his ears ever louder as he tries to break the spell. She meets him, as she always does, and the lovers attack each other mercilessly, the clang of metal filling the air as both aim to kill. "We live in a strange world, Morgana."
rgana and Merlin, before it all ended in bloodshed and tears, as all things do.
"Do you still love me?" The question is barely breathed, and both are unsure who had asked it, for it had been plaguing both of their minds. And they both answer, with a slight pressure of lips, before Morgana pulls away.
"You are a strange one, Merlin." She says, her eyes guarded once again, her stance defensive. Merlin steps back, knowing that the moment was over, if there ever truly was one. Merlin nods slowly but then rushes forward, the beating in his ears ever louder as he tries to break the spell. She meets him, as she always does, and the lovers attack each other mercilessly, the clang of metal filling the air as both aim to kill. "We live in a strange world, Morgana."
