Hello!
So, this is... I actually don't know what this is.
I just put together short snippets of stories I've already published, WIP, things that will be or will never be published, and this is what came out.
The idea is taken from "Destiny's Chokehold" by Niphrehdil, but I don't think I managed to do the same thing. That story is amazing and every time I read it, it gives me the chills.
I tried to alternate a sad part to a happy one.
The parts in italics are two adapted sentences from the show Doctor Who, episode 7x07 (The Rings of Akhenaten)
DISCLAIMER: Merlin belongs to BBC Network. I only own my ideas and my stupid brain.
Rated T for wounds and such.
Thanks to my beta Lolaangelbunn. She's amazing.
I hope you'll like it!
-MildeAmasoj ❤
There are billions and millions of unlived days for every day we live. An infinity. All the days that never came.
Kilgharrah narrowed his eyes.
"You cannot escape your destiny, Emrys."
Merlin opened the curtains of the royal chambers. "Rise and shine!"
A grunt could be heard coming from the bed. "Go away."
"No, no, no! Come on, wake up!" continued the servant, shaking the king. Not receiving any response from the blond-haired man, he picked a goblet full of water and he emptied it on the royal prat's head.
Morgana was taller than Freya, but she felt intimidated by her furious eyes.
Merlin smiled. He smiled properly, for his friends knew that deep, dark side of him, and accepted it for him.
Only a few more tears were shared that night, but they were all happy tears, and not all of them were Merlin's.
Arthur watched him, guilt flooding his heart.
Freya watched mesmerized as millions of minuscule lights danced around them.
Merlin took her hands and lifted her up from the ground, grinning widely at her.
"May I have this dance, my lady?"
He had to be the strong one, even if he felt as strong as a withering leaf. He hugged her tightly.
"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry," he whispered, trying to hide his tears into her hair.
They didn't care if people were staring and pointing at them. They didn't care about anything. It was just them and their grief. Nothing else existed.
Gwen embraced Elyan, tears of joy in her brown eyes, and laughed.
Uther looked at the man, whose eyes were pleading, and sighed.
"Restrain him."
The warlock huffed in annoyance. "Why does it always have to be the Valley of the Fallen Kings? Why not another place? That stupid, supercilious and arrogant prat..." he muttered under his breath.
Arthur turned to look at him again. "What was that?"
"I said that I completely agree with that great, extremely intelligent and not at all arrogant king," he answered, a cheeky grin on his face.
The blonde rolled his eyes. "I didn't know you thought so highly of me," he joked, his tone sarcastic.
Merlin grinned. "I don't," he replied, sticking his tongue at him.
Morgana continued to shake him, but he was unresponsive.
Silent tears began to trail down her face as she placed her hands on his pale cheeks, praying for those bright eyes to open.
"Please, Merlin..."
Hunith stroked her newborn son's cheek softly, and he shifted in his sleep.
"I'm going to look after you, I promise."
Merlin hugged Freya's still warm body, crying, as her blood soaked his shirt.
Uther observed his son with his manservant as they laughed and rolled his eyes.
With a cry of rage Arthur run his enemy through.
He turned around quickly, falling in his knees beside his best friend, who laid still and pale on the ground.
She put her hand in his, and he clasped it firmly, knowing he had been waiting for her all his life.
Balinor had always thought of himself as a man with a terrible timing.
And in that moment, as his son lay dead in his arms, while the prince frowned at his tears, he couldn't help but think he had been right.
They still had hope.
Mordred smirked as he felt the cursed sword slid between the king's ribs.
He looked at him to find not the king's blue eyes, but the blazing golden ones of Emrys staring at him in satisfaction.
She kissed him. "I love you," she whispered.
Arthur opened the door to find his servant on the floor, choking for breath.
Merlin's eyes slipped closed as his breaths ceased and Morgana stood up, laughing at her brother's broken expression.
A young Alice raised her head and looked at her lover, Gaius.
"Yes," she whispered, voice shaking with emotion, and they shared a joyful smile.
"I'm sorry."
Merlin grinned and placed a hand on Freya's bulging belly.
"How are the two little pests doing?"
She smiled and lowered her gaze as she felt the babies move.
"They missed daddy's voice."
When Uther was young, his manservant had been his best friend.
The young man had died saving him, with a dagger in the back.
He hoped his son wouldn't befriend servants, because while knights had swords and armor, servants were defenseless.
"No, please! No!"
Gwaine caught Merlin in a headlock and laughed as his friend protested loudly.
"Daddy?"
Arthur glanced at his son, Amhar, who was observing him carefully.
He crouched down on his knees, so that they were at the same height, and hugged the boy.
Guinevere was watching them, sobbing.
"Where's uncle Merlin?"
Arthur released his grip on the boy, placing his hands in his shoulders.
He opened his mouth to speak, but then he thought better of it, settling instead just for a shake of his head.
Mithian crashed her lips against Leon's and the knight, after a moment of hesitation, began to kiss her back.
Merlin ran, ran and ran until he collapsed on the shores of a lake, sobbing.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Freya. I don't know what's happening... I don't understand..." he choked out.
Morgause threw her head back and laughed.
The day Cenred raided Percival's village, he was out to pick flowers for his little sister, Dindrane.
When he arrived at home, he found his parents and brothers, as well as Dindrane, on the ground, pale and covered in blood.
He cried silent tears while burying them, but he couldn't stop the choked sobs that began to wrack his body as he put the flowers in the little girl's cold hands.
She smiled and hugged him.
Merlin looked at his king, locking their eyes in a glance that conveyed everything that needed to be said.
"Arthur, I'm... I'm sorry," he breathed.
His eyes closed, his head fell back and his body went limp.
Uther smiled at Ygraine and caressed her swollen belly, feeling his son's heartbeat for the first time.
Freya raised her head and looked in Morgana's cold green eyes.
She tightened her hold on Merlin's limp body, cradling it close to hers.
"What have you done?" she screamed, tears of rage and fear on her face.
Merlin rolled his eyes and smiled at Arthur, before closing his eyes.
A gasp caught the king's attention. He raised his head to find Gwaine's scared and confused eyes looking at him. "Is he...?"
He shook his head. "He's just unconscious. Come on, let's bring him home."
Guards seized Merlin's arms.
"Look at him," she said, her voice breaking. "He's just like his father."
She stroked his cheek and he opened his big blue eyes, blinking slowly and focusing on his mother. He closed his tiny hand on her finger and giggled joyfully.
She couldn't help but feel already extremely protective of her tiny son.
"I won't let anything bad happen to you," she whispered.
He deserved to die.
Merlin stroked Aithusa's head, and the little dragon let out the equivalent of a human giggle.
Arthur hugged her.
"We'll find him, Freya. We'll bring Merlin back home, I promise."
"Merlin! I'm going to kill you!" exclaimed Arthur, whipping up in his bed.
"And who's supposed to dress you and bring you your breakfast?" joked the warlock.
"I'll find another servant. I'm sure there are many who would kill to be in your shoes," the king explained.
Merlin shrugged. "Oh, well. I'm calling George."
"No, no, no! Bring me my breakfast, dress me and then I'll kill you," Arthur corrected.
The servant gaped mockingly. "How is that fair?!"
Arthur chuckled. "That's not supposed to be fair."
Merlin observed his king, and shook his head, exasperated. "You're a prat."
Gwaine punched Arthur hard in the face, before turning his back on him and walking away, while the king stared at him wide eyed.
Merlin placed his hand on her forehead, hesitating for a heartbeat as he thought about the repercussions his actions would have. But he couldn't let Isolde die. He had the power to save her, a power he hadn't had when Freya had been wounded.
He had to do it for her.
"Ic þe þurhhæle þin licsare," he muttered, eyes flashing gold.
Morgana screamed in pain, her tears dried by the flames burning around her.
A wave of pure and unadulterated love, so strong and beautiful, overthrew her, leaving her breathless for a moment.
Arthur tried to think rationally, not to let panic win over him, but it was no easy feat.
Merlin was gripping the front of his chainmail, his pale fingers seeking for support as his life poured out of the wound.
When they were children, Elyan and Gwen used to play together.
She didn't like to be the damsel in distress, she wanted to play the good knight, so Elyan had to be the evil one.
He used to let her win to see her smile.
Tristan kissed tenderly Isolde's already cold lips.
The blonde thrust his sword into the ground and ran towards his manservant.
"Merlin! I thought we'd lost you!" he exclaimed, hugging him and laughing.
Arthur's eyes filled with tears.
Merlin looked straight into Kilgharrah's golden eyes, trying to reach his soul.
"Destiny," he spat venomously, "is a bitch."
And he turned away, never to be seen again.
There's quite a difference, isn't there, between what was and what could have been.
There's an awful lot of one, but there's an infinity of the other.
And an infinity is too much.
Even for Emrys.
FIN.