I feel bad for not posting anything for a while, and this image popped into my head. Not sure where it came from- it's not my usual style. I went with it and came up with this; an apology for my NaNoWriMo project consuming my time. I didn't edit with my usual method, so please excuse any roughness and mistakes. I'll go over it with my fine-tooth comb when November is over. :) Partially inspired by the song You and Me by Lifehouse. I don't own Merlin, the song or the band. (Edited and re-uploaded 2/3/15)
She pretended not to notice that look across the hall. It wasn't the typical look she received from any male above the age of thirteen (or so). There was the usual awe and a tinge of longing, but there was a sense of innocence and wonder she wasn't used to. This new boy was intriguing, and when he was "rewarded" with that particular position, she knew she'd probably have the chance to explore that intrigue.
He just kept stepping in between Arthur and trouble, even putting his own life in danger. That too was atypical, as was his attitude. He either didn't know about or deliberately ignored the way commoners and nobles, masters and servants interacted (he reminded her of her). She suspected it was a bit of both. But this boy had courage, and Arthur was gradually becoming more human for it. She'd watch Merlin from across the room, the yard, the square . . . and his innocence and wonder didn't fade.
And then he brought a druid boy to her room. She was forced to face ideas she'd never thought of before. What if magic isn't something you choose? What if it chooses you? The way he'd looked at her, like it was something he'd been longing to hear . . . it threw her. Did it mean they shared the same opinion? If so, and her dreams turned out to be related to magic, she could turn to him.
She just had to help him save his village. And it wasn't just because his cause was just and he'd helped her with the boy. She also wanted to know where he came from; what sort of environment had produced this uncommon commoner? If she'd had such love from such a mother, would she be at such peace with herself?
But then Arthur was bit by the questing beast. Merlin disappeared twice just when he should have been by Arthur's side. And after the second time, she noticed he was no longer looked innocent; he seemed deeper and darker. He still looked at her with awe and longing, but there was a bit of confidence there as well.
Glances between them became bolder. He became bolder. Bringing her flowers, speaking to her when they met, with or without Arthur. And his confidence and charm drew her further in (as did his sapphire eyes and striking cheekbones). His support with the Druids and the Witchfinder drew them even closer; he defied law and convention to help her. Visits to deliver her sleeping potion were drawn out longer and longer. Heartfelt chats, shared secrets, fears slain . . . until one evening, she dared defy convention for something more, and he responded with enthusiasm.
They were careful not to cross any boundaries, though it was tempting. Stolen kisses, hands pulling one or the other into alcoves, short rides on horseback with Arthur and Gwen just so the couples could be alone together. The risk added to the romance.
Then Alvarr and Mordred. And Morgause. She just wanted to see magic's cause furthered and Uther gone, not understanding that it was too soon. She'd always been impulsive and impatient. Merlin had gentled that part of her, but not enough. And though it nearly killed him (and her), he had to let her go.
xxxXxxx
They met time and time again, clashing and threatening. But neither could find it in themselves to hate or destroy the other.
xxxXxxx
Years later (it felt like lifetimes), they saw each other across the battlefield at Camlann. Drawn together like magnets, they strode toward each other, pausing only to defend themselves. He stepped in front of Arthur, she in front of Mordred. He cast a protective shield over the King and noticed Morgana do the same for her champion.
They stared into each others' eyes. She seemed to understand what he wanted to do. He moved his hand in an arc from horizon to horizon, murmuring words of protection. A large golden dome spread over them—neither sound nor spell would be able to able to exit it.
"How did we end up like this, Morgana?" he asked plaintively.
"Your choices led us here," she replied bitterly.
"I never wanted to hurt you."
"But you did! You took what we had and threw it away!"
"How was I supposed to respond? You'd already made up your mind to betray us."
"Enough!" she screamed. "Let's end this. Acwele." A bolt of light shot from her hand . . .
"Scildan." . . . and dissipated on Merlin's shield. "Flíeh fǽgð." A sword lying next to him flew toward her . . .
"Formilt." . . . the sword melted in mid-air. "Astrice."
Merlin went flying as if struck, yelling as he went: "Gehæftan."
Roots burst from the ground to rapidly restrain Morgana, but not before she yelled: "Bærne." The roots burned to a crisp and she yelled, "Weorc untoworpenlic."
Merlin had just regained his feet only to collapse in pain. He managed to gasp, "Forþ fleoge," then took a deep, shuddering breath to say, "Ályne angsumnes." His pain ceased as she flew back to hit the dome. When she landed, he called out, "Cume her fyrbryne." A line of fire spread from where his hand was on the ground to circle around Morgana's collapsed form. It flared up around her.
No one could see through the fire, but Merlin heard her yell: "Tídrénas." It began raining heavily, but only inside their dome. The fire was drowned out.
Before Morgana could do anything else, Merlin waved his hand in a swatting motion and yelled, "Forscrence." The clouds disappeared along with the rain and the ground dried. "Ic þe bebiede þæt þu abifest nu. Tóhlíd." He smacked his hand down on the ground and it began shaking, opening a hole under Morgana; she fell in with a scream. He said, "Ályne," and rose slowly to his feet; the shaking ended.
When he began walking over to her, she screamed, "Rære me!" She came flying out of the hole to land just outside it and yelled, "Wanne nædran, fram þæs foldan bosme astigaþ ge." Several nasty-looking snakes sprang from the ground and began slithering toward Merlin.
Before they reached him, he said, "Cume þoden." A whirlwind blew all the snakes toward Morgana.
Morgana hastily called out, "Bærne." The snakes burned in mid-air; she followed it with, "Hleap on bæc."
Merlin flew backwards again. Morgana began stalking toward him, but he heard her footsteps and said, "Æstende." She stopped in her tracks, eyes going wide as she realized she couldn't move. He got to his feet gingerly and stalked over to her.
She watched him, suddenly afraid. He was more powerful than her, though somehow she was still breathing. He stopped about six inches away, fists clenched by his sides, chest and shoulders heaving from agitated breathing. The two of them were a sight; wet, covered in dirt and scratches from head to toe, clothing and hair disheveled. They stared at each other for several moments until finally Merlin moved.
His hands flew up, seizing her head on both sides. He pulled her head up and forward, marrying their lips together. His closed eyes flashed; he'd wordlessly freed her from his last spell and she was able to move her lips with his. He let go of her head and slid his arms down to her hips. She wrapped her hands around the back of his neck, as if holding on for dear life. And maybe she was. The crowd gasped in shock.
When Merlin broke away for air, he noticed their audience still watching. He pointed a hand at the floor and whispered, "Bene læg gesweorc." Fog rose from the ground inside the dome until it was entirely filled up. Everyone outside it sighed in disappointment and sat where they were, waiting for the two magicians to emerge.
If they could have seen inside, they would have witnessed Morgana pulling Merlin's mouth back to hers for more fierce kissing. She tasted his bottom lip, which prompted him to open his mouth. They soon learned that the other tasted the same as they'd remembered. Their hands roamed into hair, down sides, up backs and held, grasped, caressed. Words began flowing between them again, but in their minds. Mouths stayed otherwise occupied.
"I never stopped loving you," he began.
"Nor I, but I thought you hated me," she replied.
"Never. I never hated you, only what you did."
"I didn't know. You never told me."
"You never gave me the chance."
"You could have made me listen."
"I didn't want to force anything on you. That's not my way."
"I'm sorry. I let fear, hate and power blind me."
"I'm sorry too. I should have helped you earlier. I had so many chances . . ."
"I forgive you. Can we . . . can we try again? End this madness?"
"I forgive you too. Let's end this conflict."
"But magic . . .?"
"Arthur knows of mine. He's going to change the law."
"You were right about him. He is . . . not the man I thought he was."
"You said it yourself—he's a better man than his father."
"He's the only family I have left."
"Yes. Come home, Morgana. Come back to me."
She broke from the kiss to whisper, "I will."
Merlin waved his hand and said, "Ácwinc gesweorc." The fog vanished. He directed his hand upward and said, "Ácwinc scild." The dome around them flashed gold then blinked out. "Shall we?" he asked Morgana, and took her hand.
"Yes, let's," she replied, and interlinked their fingers.
The warriors around them stared, mouths open at the two formerly mortal enemies. Everyone scrambled to their feet. "Stop fighting, return to your camps," the two magicians said together, and somehow their voices carried to the furthest combatants.
Merlin called to Arthur and Morgana to Mordred. With a word from Merlin, the Round Table (or a reasonable facsimile thereof) appeared. Morgana and Merlin sat next to each other at it, leaders from their sides sat next to them. Over the course of a few hours, a peace treaty was hammered out. It included lifting the magic ban, ambassadors to and from the Druids and much in the way of apologies and forgiveness.
No one was happier than the witch and warlock, who had sacrificed much and forgiven more than anyone else, but had also received the most in return—endless love.
Spells are taken from the Merlin wiki or cobbled together from Ye Olde English translator. Let me know if you liked it! Thanks! :)