Listen to Me
Jun. 26th, 2016 11:11 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
madimpossibledreamerMain Points:
Merlin AU
Chapter Summary: Merlin's had enough of worrying about the future.
Word Count: 1022
Rating: T
Notes: I only vaguely know about anything that happens beyond...Season 2? 'Cause that was all they had on Hulu. And then they had Season 4, but by then I was completely and utterly behind, so. It's a fix-it. And I know more of the characters than I do of the plot. *shrug* Also, Merlin got ridiculously chatty on me. Like some of my characters do.
~Dreamer~
“No,” he orders, like he’s the one that’s been a prince all his life, and to her own surprise she shuts up, rather than rebelling as she’d usually do against authority like that. “I am going to speak; you are going to listen.”
He paces for two seconds, silent, playing with his hands, before sitting on her bed, which is gall that would get him thrown in the stocks at the very least, but she doesn’t raise her voice or call for the guards. He’s trembling slightly, but there’s determination in that usually goofy face now filled with power. He takes a deep breath and starts right into it, each word like a thunderbolt like if they don’t all come galloping out at once he won’t have the nerve to open the gate. Her metaphors are getting a little weird, but it’s not as if it’s the first sleepless night this week.
“Morgana, you’re not insane. The things you’ve noticed—they’re magic.”
She makes, instantly, to argue, to shut him up, because it can’t be, it can’t, and only belatedly realizes it’s fear, not hate. She makes for a terrible ward. He lifts a hand instantly to shush her. “It’s not like Uther thinks; magic. It’s like Arthur’s sword, or Gwen’s father’s blacksmith tools. There’s some inherently nasty things, like raising undead armies, but for the most part it’s just…another way of doing things. It depends on how you use it.”
He plays with her bedsheet a little, fiddling nervously, not looking at her. “’Course, it might be a little more…tempting? I guess? Though if you’re judging by Arthur, he gets a bit power-happy when you give him weapons, too. But, I dunno, it’s…easy. To do things the easy way. To forget that you’re still human and you have to be careful.”
Her eyes widen. She can read this one-sided conversation; she’s far from stupid. “You…have magic?”
“Hence the dangerous part of this plan.” And there’s one of those giant smiles that makes Merlin look almost harmless, but given what she now knows about him, that’s an illusion. “And I’ve seen—I mean—you getting angrier and angrier. I can feel your anger and fear from across the castle. It’s getting out of hand, Morgana. But, you know, if you’re not the person I first met, the one I still believe in, you could just tell Uther, who would believe you, and, well, I wouldn’t let myself get killed, but I wouldn’t want to do that to Arthur, because he’s finally stopped being a complete clotpole who can’t trust anybody, and, well, it’s not like I can’t protect him from a distance, but it’d certainly be much harder.” She recognizes the way he babbles when he’s nervous, and it’s actually a little reassuring, the fact that he’s still Merlin underneath this newfound power. She still knows him. And that gives her hope, for the first time in so long.
“Why does it matter?” She’s genuinely curious. In his situation, she wouldn’t have been anywhere near Camelot if she’d had a choice, let alone stuck around in the household of a cruel King who killed many innocent ‘sorcerors’.
“Because Arthur could be a great king. I’ve seen it.” How could Uther look at a face like this, knowing that the man is magic, and see anything but good in him? There is absolute conviction in his tone, faith in Arthur shining like a beacon, and I wish I had that much belief in Arthur. Merlin would cheerfully die for Arthur, but he would fight, as hard as he could (a phrase Arthur would scoff at, if only he knew) to live, because he knew all the dangers that lurked around every corner. No matter how hard you tried, Uther, you could never have found a better servant.
He shakes his head, as a thought occurs to her. “No, not like you have, but there was a crystal cave, and Gaius and the dragon said so. Of course, they also told me not to tell you, but I’ve seen what scared and angry magic-users are like. They lash out, or go and make convoluted plans to kill Arthur, and I’m getting very tired of convoluted plans to kill Arthur. And trying to burn all of Camelot doesn’t exactly inspire trust. I’ve been thinking and thinking and trying to find us a way off this path, because Arthur will die, Morgana, and I will not let that happen if I can help it. And I don’t think anyone saw this coming, so here I am, telling you about me, and hoping it will put us on a new path. I can’t make decisions for you—they’re yours alone to make, but I can ask—please don’t try to kill Arthur. Or Uther. He can’t die, not by magic, because that will just make Arthur hate magic and that will destroy the dream of Camelot, and not before Arthur’s ready, no matter how much I hate the king. More than I thought I could ever hate anyone.” His fist clenches, but then there’s that ready smile. “I keep hoping for old age.” He stands up and shrugs. “Think about what I’ve said, Morgana. You could even help out if you like, but I understand if you don’t want to. If you want to pretend this conversation never happened.” He starts walking before another thought occurs to him, and he turns around. “Oh, and if you set your curtains on fire again? Have a candle by your bedside; knock it over. It’s a lot easier to explain that you’d been tossing and turning in one of your dreams.” He winks.
And then, as quietly as he came, he’s gone. The room feels slightly colder in his wake.
Merlin AU
Chapter Summary: Merlin's had enough of worrying about the future.
Word Count: 1022
Rating: T
Notes: I only vaguely know about anything that happens beyond...Season 2? 'Cause that was all they had on Hulu. And then they had Season 4, but by then I was completely and utterly behind, so. It's a fix-it. And I know more of the characters than I do of the plot. *shrug* Also, Merlin got ridiculously chatty on me. Like some of my characters do.
~Dreamer~
Merlin storms into her chambers impressively. She never would’ve thought that she could associate that word with Merlin, of all people—brave, yes, often idiotically so, and loyal, but here he is, with an aura that’s ten feet taller than he is, and Morgana glances up from the book she’s reading, confused and not a little concerned. “Merlin, what—”
“No,” he orders, like he’s the one that’s been a prince all his life, and to her own surprise she shuts up, rather than rebelling as she’d usually do against authority like that. “I am going to speak; you are going to listen.”
He paces for two seconds, silent, playing with his hands, before sitting on her bed, which is gall that would get him thrown in the stocks at the very least, but she doesn’t raise her voice or call for the guards. He’s trembling slightly, but there’s determination in that usually goofy face now filled with power. He takes a deep breath and starts right into it, each word like a thunderbolt like if they don’t all come galloping out at once he won’t have the nerve to open the gate. Her metaphors are getting a little weird, but it’s not as if it’s the first sleepless night this week.
“Morgana, you’re not insane. The things you’ve noticed—they’re magic.”
She makes, instantly, to argue, to shut him up, because it can’t be, it can’t, and only belatedly realizes it’s fear, not hate. She makes for a terrible ward. He lifts a hand instantly to shush her. “It’s not like Uther thinks; magic. It’s like Arthur’s sword, or Gwen’s father’s blacksmith tools. There’s some inherently nasty things, like raising undead armies, but for the most part it’s just…another way of doing things. It depends on how you use it.”
He plays with her bedsheet a little, fiddling nervously, not looking at her. “’Course, it might be a little more…tempting? I guess? Though if you’re judging by Arthur, he gets a bit power-happy when you give him weapons, too. But, I dunno, it’s…easy. To do things the easy way. To forget that you’re still human and you have to be careful.”
Her eyes widen. She can read this one-sided conversation; she’s far from stupid. “You…have magic?”
“Hence the dangerous part of this plan.” And there’s one of those giant smiles that makes Merlin look almost harmless, but given what she now knows about him, that’s an illusion. “And I’ve seen—I mean—you getting angrier and angrier. I can feel your anger and fear from across the castle. It’s getting out of hand, Morgana. But, you know, if you’re not the person I first met, the one I still believe in, you could just tell Uther, who would believe you, and, well, I wouldn’t let myself get killed, but I wouldn’t want to do that to Arthur, because he’s finally stopped being a complete clotpole who can’t trust anybody, and, well, it’s not like I can’t protect him from a distance, but it’d certainly be much harder.” She recognizes the way he babbles when he’s nervous, and it’s actually a little reassuring, the fact that he’s still Merlin underneath this newfound power. She still knows him. And that gives her hope, for the first time in so long.
“Why does it matter?” She’s genuinely curious. In his situation, she wouldn’t have been anywhere near Camelot if she’d had a choice, let alone stuck around in the household of a cruel King who killed many innocent ‘sorcerors’.
“Because Arthur could be a great king. I’ve seen it.” How could Uther look at a face like this, knowing that the man is magic, and see anything but good in him? There is absolute conviction in his tone, faith in Arthur shining like a beacon, and I wish I had that much belief in Arthur. Merlin would cheerfully die for Arthur, but he would fight, as hard as he could (a phrase Arthur would scoff at, if only he knew) to live, because he knew all the dangers that lurked around every corner. No matter how hard you tried, Uther, you could never have found a better servant.
He shakes his head, as a thought occurs to her. “No, not like you have, but there was a crystal cave, and Gaius and the dragon said so. Of course, they also told me not to tell you, but I’ve seen what scared and angry magic-users are like. They lash out, or go and make convoluted plans to kill Arthur, and I’m getting very tired of convoluted plans to kill Arthur. And trying to burn all of Camelot doesn’t exactly inspire trust. I’ve been thinking and thinking and trying to find us a way off this path, because Arthur will die, Morgana, and I will not let that happen if I can help it. And I don’t think anyone saw this coming, so here I am, telling you about me, and hoping it will put us on a new path. I can’t make decisions for you—they’re yours alone to make, but I can ask—please don’t try to kill Arthur. Or Uther. He can’t die, not by magic, because that will just make Arthur hate magic and that will destroy the dream of Camelot, and not before Arthur’s ready, no matter how much I hate the king. More than I thought I could ever hate anyone.” His fist clenches, but then there’s that ready smile. “I keep hoping for old age.” He stands up and shrugs. “Think about what I’ve said, Morgana. You could even help out if you like, but I understand if you don’t want to. If you want to pretend this conversation never happened.” He starts walking before another thought occurs to him, and he turns around. “Oh, and if you set your curtains on fire again? Have a candle by your bedside; knock it over. It’s a lot easier to explain that you’d been tossing and turning in one of your dreams.” He winks.
And then, as quietly as he came, he’s gone. The room feels slightly colder in his wake.
