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laughableillusions · 3 years

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Farkas Meets Neloth

((AN: I wrote this at like 2am last night and I thought it was funny, I proofread it a little but of you find any errors just ignore them)) ((Also idk if this is a bit out of character for Neloth, but mostly I think he’d be at least a bit curious abt the LDB romance choices bc of research abt the magical aspects of dragons or smth))

Lindir wasn’t expecting a manhandling interrogation when he floated up to the top of the Tel Mithryn tower, he almost tripped when the old wizard rushed up to him; berating him with questions as he held his chin in a tight grip. Poor Farkas, he could tell he was a bit overwhelmed. Then again, how many times in a Nord’s life does he float about in a giant mushroom tower?

“Well you seem fine to me, or at least you’re still exactly the same as when I last saw you…” Neloth sounded disappointed.

“I-I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner, I didn’t know you still needed m-“

“Who is this?” Neloth had now turned to Farkas, his yellow eyes narrowing as he eyed the Nord.

Lindir stammered, his protective instincts slamming right into him at the question.

“H-He…I-I got married remember?” Lindir managed, his charm automatically masking his nervousness.

Neloth’sbrow furrowed, he was ironically a few inches shorter than Farkas. But he examined as if he was some kind of strange insect, he walked around him looking him up and down. Farkas watching him stiffly, his hands balled into fists at his sides.

“Well, he certainly is quite the specimen.” Neloth concluded, halting back in front of the man.

Lindir was struck dumb. He didn’t know if he should be flattered or offended at the wizard’s remarks of his husband. I mean the approval of an old Telvanni Wizard was something to be proud of right?

Neloth didn’t seem to notice or care about Lindir’s reaction, only taking his hand and yanking Farkas’s face down to his level by the chin. He looked over him, turning his face this way and that, brow furrowed in concentration. The poor Nord only glanced fearfully at Lindir, awkwardly leaned down at the mercy of the dunmar. He knew better than to stop him at least, he trusted Lindir enough to know when to act and when to stay back. The half-elf knew how to charm and maneuver social situations as well as Farkas could hear a rabbit in the brush. So he would do what he did best, stand and be silent and wait until he felt it was safe enough to speak.

Lindir on the other hand was still caught up in his mind, he didn’t know if he should stop him or not. If he did he was half convinced he would be thrown down the long shaft of Tel Mithryn by Neloth if he protested. Usually if anyone even tried anything like that to Farkas they’d receive sharp consequences (be it verbal or otherwise). One could safely say Lindir was overprotective of his husband, he had the scars from multiple altercations to protect his honor to prove it. Farkas was no exception either, though he was long-cured of Lycanthropy. The possessive instinct to “protect his own” lingered, and it showed. There were many a man (and woman) who had the bruises to prove that too.

Neloth finally let go of Farkas’s chin, brushing the dust that had coated his face off his palms.

“Well, he doesn’t seem in any way special.” The old wizard half-sighed. “But I can see why you like this one, he is quite pretty if nothing else.”

Lindir flushed a deep red at that. His temper now flaring at the back-handed compliment. “This one” “specimen” “not special” it was all simply intolerable. He couldn’t allow any more of it. Farkas was probably the most special person in his life, and he wouldn’t have some old grouch determine his worth.

“How dare you speak to him like that!” Lindir shouted, his hands flying all about him. “Why do you care about who I marry?! It’s not any of your business anyway!”

Neloth didn’t even react to his tirade, which only fanned the flames of Lindir’s anger.

“You act like he’s not even a person while he’s standing right in front of you! How about you treat him like a normal person would and address him properly you wrinkly freak!”

Neloth gave the half-elf a sidelong glance of withering boredom. Sending Lindir sputtering uselessly for words and insults.

“Of course you’d say that, you’re his husband.”

Lindir let out a cry of complete and utter disgust, looking angrily at Farkas. The Nord met his eyes, obviously taking his look as a sign that ‘this was not okay, and he had to do something.’

“I think he married me for a reason other than just the way I look.” Farkas interjected firmly.

The look Neloth gave him silenced him instantly.

“Where did you find him anyway?” The wizard sounded like he was referring to a prize horse. “In Skyrim I know, but what province?”.

Lindir huffed.

“Why don’t you ask him yourself? He’s literally standing right in front of you.”

Neloth frowned, obviously he didn’t enjoy having Lindir be pouty with him. Not that he much cared for what Lindir felt, but it was much too noisy and it distracted him. But if it would shut him up, he supposed he would ask him.

He sighed annoyingly, turning back to Farkas.

“Where are you from?”

Farkas forced himself to look at him, he would hate to admit it, but the wizard scared him. He was always a bit wary when it came to magic, even when Lindir taught him some basic restoration spells he never really trusted it. But those countless burns he sustained from battles against mages, the fireballs shot straight at his face…it was enough to at least have some respect for the craft. He could never really picture going into battle without any sort of weapon, sure swinging a sword around took training. But even then anyone could pick up a sword and use it training or not.

Coming face to face with a master wizard, a wizard that probably studied his craft for more years than he had been alive; honed and perfected every spell so that even the twitch of his fingers would produce what he wanted. Farkas couldn’t fathom the ability this man had over magic, and it was awe-inspiring as well as terrifying.

Neloth was obviously getting annoyed from Farkas’s lack of answer. He could feel himself being read by the Nord, like those pale eyes tried to prod into him.

“Well?” Neloth barked.

Farkas blinked, glancing back at Lindir before pulling together an answer.

“Whiterun, Jorrvaskyr actually.” He choked out. “I-I’m with The Companions…”

Neloth nodded a bit thoughtfully.

“The Companions eh? As in the 100 companions of Ysgrammor...” He thought for a moment, looking Farkas up and down once again. “I suppose that means you’re his legacy hm?” He concluded.

Farkas decided to keep the obligatory Companion Value Lecture to himself, he only knew so much anyway, and didn’t care much for the history either. He just nodded, hoping it would appease the wizard.

It seemed to, and he finally turned away from him. Farkas let out a breath of relief, scooting closer to Lindir to try and recover himself. He didn’t know how much more of this interrogation he could take.

Lindir took his large hand and squeezed it, obviously feeling the same way.

“Well with that out of the way, what is it that you want?” Neloth now said, his back to them.

Lindir thought for a moment, he had gotten so carried away with protecting Farkas the reason for making this tedious trip had escaped him briefly.

“Oh right! Yes,” Lindir said, now completely composed once again. “I’m here about the black books?”

Neloth turned back to him, not even paying attention to the couple’s interlocked hands.

“I thought as much, now come…I have something to show you.” He said, already walking off and not waiting for either of them to catch up.

#skyrim #the elder scrolls #farkas #skyrim companions #farkas x dragonborn #farkas x reader #neloth #mini fic #one shot #tesblr #skyrim oc #tel mithryn #tes v #tes #my writing #writing

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natural-namjoon · 4 years

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Ｎｅｎ

“What happens when a small child runs off into the forest and runs into the sweet but mysterious Hongjoong who can make rain with his flute?.”

Ateez as Gods AU

Non- Romantic Hongjoong X OC, Seonghwa is there too.

Fantasy, mystical, no romance

TW// Non-graphic Death, mentions of child abuse, mild angst.

Word Count: 5,139 words

*AN: short one-off that might become a series. idk yet. I wanted to do something different, I felt huge writers block from only writing romantic y/n stories so this is me trying to write something different. Its a cute little one shot of ethereal Hongjoong saving a cute little boy, very sweet, very simple, please enjoy.*

The morning air was warm and dry, the sky was bright blue with no clouds to be seen, which left the sun blazing on a small village nestled upon a densely forested hill. In that village there was a small boy who was about 6 years old who, told to stay inside and finish his chores, decided he was done for the day and with sneaking caution he peeked his small head out of the opening of the hut looking out for a scolding grown-up that might be headed his way, but there was currently no one in sight. Almost all of the adults in the village had been called to a council of the elders that morning because there had been talk of a curse on the land, the village had seen no rain for almost a year and the crops were suffering and food storages were dwindling, if the spirits couldn’t help them they would be forced to leave and make the dangerous journey of finding a new place to settle.

After a few moments of looking around the child decided it was safe enough to venture out. He knew it was forbidden and he knew he could incur the wrath of his father like so many times before but there was a restless longing that had been tugging at the small child’s mind all that morning. With no hesitation the boy made a break for the treeline, wanting to explore and look around, he had not been allowed to ever do so and even though the rainless months left the forest in a dry brown state, it was still better than sitting in the stuffy hut.

Treading carefully between the large trees, the child ran until he could no longer see the last few huts that sat on the outskirts of their settlement. After he felt he was far enough the child slowed down and took his time, looking around. The trees were so tall and imposing but not in a scary way. Nothing about the forest had ever scared this child unlike the other kids in the village. This particular little boy always thought of the trees as guardians, tall and passive, shielding him from being seen when father was angry and providing timber and branches for the fires and huts. After a bit of walking the boy came upon a large channel in the ground, dried and empty, no doubt the location of a small stream that had been bountiful about a year before but now, due to the drought, had dried up. Carefully climbing down into the dried stream he noticed a shiny glint in the dirt. With piqued curiosity, the boy ran over and with small determined fingers, he was able to move the dry clay and retrieve a shiny blue stone.

Completely enamored by the beauty of the small rock the boy didn’t hear it at first, the sound was faint and a little off in the distance but after a moment the tune had the child’s ears perked. It was the sound of a flute, there was a lone flute player somewhere in the forest. The tune was soft and slow and playful but in between the notes there was a hint of sadness, the boy felt a pang in his heart as he listened to the sweet melody and with determination he decided he needed to find the lone flute player. With a skip in his step the boy followed their ears and on quick small feet, made his way to find the magical musician.

After a few confusing twists and turns the boy was eventually able to follow the sound in the right direction, as with every passing tree the sound grew louder and soon the child found his way to a small clearing in the woods where two boulders sat, a smaller one sitting within the shadow of the larger one, the boy hadn't even realized how far he had walked, completely leaving the hill that his village sat on and traveling deep into the valley below. At first, the boy didn’t see anything but then he noticed him. A young man sitting in the lotus position on the smaller boulder, eyes closed, playing the flute. As to not draw attention to himself the boy ducked behind a nearby tree. Peeking around to watch the man. The man was thin and pretty, he also looked young, probably no older than the bigger kids back at the village, but there was something about him that made the child feel like he was much older than anyone the boy had ever met. The man was odd-looking as well, his hair was very dirty and covered in what looked like mud or clay, it made it impossible to know what his real hair color was but his appearance only got stranger, he was dressed in clothes the child had never seen before, instead of the furs and skins the child was used to seeing, this man had on long silver and white robes that looked shiny and pretty. Was this material the infamous “silk” that the child had heard so much about? According to the adults, silk was incredibly expensive and people killed for it, only royalty and the extremely wealthy were able to possess it, but this man had dirt in his hair, surely he wasn’t royalty, the boy thought.

While the little boy sat perturbed and lost in thought he didn’t notice the man had stopped playing the flute and was sitting quietly, a small smile on his lips.

“I see you there, little one,�� He called, his voice was smooth and sweet, like the sound of wind chimes. Startled, the boy gasped and hid behind the tree, hoping the man hadn’t seen him.

“It's ok Little one, I will not harm you. Did you come because of my song?” He called out playfully to the child again.

After a moment The boy shyly peeked his head out, the man sat and beckoned the boy over, his eyes were narrow and piercing but kind, and his smile was warm, with a perfect set of straight white teeth, sensing no immediate threat the little boy decided to take a hesitant step out of behind the tree. The child made his way over to the boulder where the man sat, his eyes watching cautiously for any signs that the man was a threat but as he got closer he could only feel the warmth of the man’s smile and the welcoming nature of his stance. The only strange thing that struck the child was how bright and blue the man’s eyes were.

The boy stopped right in front of the boulder, looking up at the pretty human before him. Without saying a word the man patted the spot next to him on the boulder, after a moment of hesitation the boy then clumsily climbed up the side of the rock and sat where he had been directed, the shade provided a nice cool spot to sit in the middle of the warm afternoon.

“There, isn’t that better? I’m sure you walked pretty far huh?” The man asked and the child nodded shyly

“My name is Hongjoong, What is yours?” The man, Hongjoong, said extending his hand out to the boy, but the child only stared at his hand with a strange look, after an awkward pause the boy only shook his head and in a small voice he said,

“I have no name.” Hongjoong furrowed his brows in concern but didn’t say anything, instead, reaching in his satchel to retrieve his canteen. Taking off the cap he offered it to the child,

“Here, drink some water, it's awfully warm today.” Without hesitation the boy grabbed the canteen and drank hastily, Hongjoong chuckled at the child's enthusiasm. He figured the child had travelled far since Hongjoong didn't know of any villages in the immediate area , and he figured he was completely alone out there, but he had been wrong.

The canteen was heavy and cool in the boy's hands and the water he drank from it was the coldest and cleanest water the child had ever tasted, it was crisp and sweet and the little boy couldn't get enough, gulping it down like he was cursed with an insatiable thirst.

“Whoa there, slow down or you will get a stomach ache if you drink it all so fast” Hongjoong laughed placing his hand on the canteen.

The boy stopped immediately, feeling embarrassed. “I’m sorry.” he said quietly, cheeks going pink, he knew that he should’ve been polite and only taken a little, father had taught him better than that. Hongjoongs eyes softened as he helped wipe the dribbling water from the boy’s chin.

“It’s ok, I would just hate it if you fell ill.” Hongjoong explained.

As Hongjoong was cleaning the child's face, the boy had noticed some more details about the kind man in front of him. Hongjoong was beautiful, almost like a woman, with delicate features like soft lips and long eyelashes but his jawline was sharp and his nose prominent like a man. Hongjoong also was adjourned with so many pieces of sparkling jewelry,he would probably have glittered if standing in direct sunlight. Multiple small silver hoops were placed in one ear and a loong delicate chain hung from the other, he also had many thin silver rings sprinkled with small sparkling jewels all over his hands. All signs pointed to Hongjoong being royalty but the boy couldn't get past the hair. Hongjoong noticed the child staring at his hair slicked back with brown clay and laughed his same twinkling laugh, the child couldn't help but smile at the sound.

“My head must look strange to you my little one but it's something I must do the be here,” Hongjoong explained vaguely and before the boy could press it further he held up his flute.

“I was actually in the middle of doing something very important, and I was almost done, do you mind if I finish my song?” he asked, the flute in his hand was beautiful, wooden and polished with intricate carvings, the boy nodded as he marveled at the pretty instrument in Hongjoong’s hand.

With another brilliant smile, Hongjoong silently lifted the flute to his lips and closed his eyes, there was a pause and then the slow yet bouncy notes erupted from the delicate instrument, and the child was entranced. The sound seemed to envelop the clearing and seep into the forest, ringing out for anything with ears to experience. The song was playful but again the boy felt the tugging in his heart like he wanted to cry and burst out laughing all at the same time. After about a minute of silence, the flute being the only sound around them, Hongjoong played the last note of the song, extending it like a cry into the air and then silence followed. Eyes still closed, he placed the flute down on his lap gently. The little boy sat, eyes wide in amazement, he was about to tell Hongjoong how pretty the song had been but before either could speak there was a loud invasive crash that echoed through the sky and shook the ground, causing the child to jump in fright and subsequently into Hongjoongs arms. Then out of nowhere dark grey clouds rolled in and it started to pour rain from the heavens, letting out a surprised cry the boy leapt from Hongjoong’s embrace and threw his little arms up in amazement,

“ Hongjoong look! It's raining!” The boy laughed, twirling and jumping, feeling the cool touch of rain on his face for the first time in months.

It was the feeling of relief, like swimming in a cold pond on a hot day and knowing his people back in the village won't suffer anymore because of the drought, the small child had never felt this type of joy, and had it not been pouring on them he would have had visible tears. Hongjoong watched the boy, giggling and dancing in the rain and he could feel the child's relief, such an emotional burden this little boy carried, he could feel all the scars this particular child bared and he felt a deep sadness for him. After a bit of dancing and cheering the boy stopped, the rain was pouring harder and the boy was starting to become overwhelmed by the force of the rain.

“Hongjoong I can't see,” The boy said pathetically, trying to wipe the water form his face only for it to be replaced by more rain. Hongjoong chuckled and gathered his things, then lifting this child up into his arms,

“Come my little one lets find shelter until the storm passes.” he said, holding the child close as the boy buried his face into Hongjoong’s silken robes. Hongjoong leapt off the boulder and with a hustle in his step he jogged off into the woods knowing a particular cave nearby where he could put the child until the rain let up. Reaching the cave in no time at all, Hongjoong placed the boy in the back and went to work making a fire. Using a dry handkerchief Hongjoong helped the boy wipe his face and dry his hair. After the boy had all the water wiped off his face he could finally see perfectly, he took a look around the small dry cave, cozy and warm now that it was lit by firelight and then finally the boy really noticed Hongjoong and gasped. The rain had washed the mud and dirt from his head and revealed his hair to be the color of the sea, a deep dark shade of blue, it was beautiful and shined in the fires light,

“Your hair!” the child exclaimed and all Hongjoong did was smile,

“Yes, now you see why I had to cover it up, many people don't like my hair, it frightens them.” He explained. It was true that the blue hair was strange and the boy had never seen anything like it, but it didn't frighten him.

“It's so pretty Hongjoong'' the small boy replied softly, reaching up to touch it without thinking. Hongjoong leaned down and let the child’s small hands gently grasp a long piece that hung in front of his face, the boy smiled at how soft and silky Hongjoong’s hair felt, no tangles or dirt to be seen.

“Hongjoong are you a prince?” the boy asked, letting go of Hongjoong’s hair and looking deep into his blue eyes, again the child was met with Hongjoongs twinkling laughter.

“No child, I am not a prince, where I'm from I don't need to be rich and greedy to live my life, I have 7 brothers and we all live in harmony with the earth and all its creatures,” as he spoke Hongjoong had picked something up off the ground and revealed it to the boy, in his hand was a large lizard, It was black with gold flecks accross its shiny skin. The boy jumped slightly, frightened at how large the reptile was, almost as long as Hongjoong’s forearm but quickly noticed how docile the creature was as it rested lazily in the man's arms.

“It won't hurt you little one, this is a salamander, its ok to say hello. Most of the time earth's creatures are just as curious as you are.” Hongjoong explained, lightly stroking the Salamanders head. The boy followed suit and ran his little fingers over the salamanders head, giggling at the feeling of the creature's cool smooth skin. After the boy finished petting it, Hongjoong gently placed the salamander on the cave floor and it scurried away.

Both of them sat in silence for a bit listening to the sound of the rain, when suddenly Honjoong turned to the child,

“Little one, why do you not have a name?” Hongjoong asked the boy who had started to nod off against the cave wall. The boy shrugged and rubbed his eyes,

“I do not know, my mother and father gave me none, they just call me ‘boy’ and that's it.” The boy shrugged again, not finding the topic all that interesting

“ Are your mother and father nice to you?” Hongjoong asked this time and again the child shrugged,

“My mother and father give me food and father tells me how lucky I am to have a place to sleep, so yes they are nice to me, I guess.” The little boy stayed quiet in thought for a moment then spoke again

“My mother is going to have a baby, I will soon have a brother or sister who will follow mother and fathers orders better than me. I can never do anything right so father has to punish me a lot. I try hard but I wasn't born a good child and my mother says that this baby will be born good so they won't need me anymore.” The boy mumbled out the last sentence, his eyes downcast as he picked at some dirt on the cave floor.

Hongjoong shook with the rage he felt in his heart at the child's words, what he had suspected from the beginning had been true and he knew he never wanted this small boy to suffer again. No child deserved such a fate, to be born to parents who could not see what a valuable and beautiful gift children were. Composing himself before the boy could see his anger Hongjoong sighed and reached out move the hair from the boy's face, tangled and dirty it was currently a mess on his head.

“Little one, may I have the honor of giving you a name?” Hongjoong spoke softly and the boy's eyes widened like saucers.

“ Really, you can do that?” the boy asked incredulously, Hongjoong giggled at the pure innocence the child exuded,

“Yes I can or if you like you can pick your own name, it's your choice.” At Hongjoongs words the boy's face looked as if he told him that pigs could fly. After a moment of thinking the child made up his mind.

“ I want you to choose for me, please?” and with that Hongjoong smiled back and grabbed the child gently placing him on his lap, it was starting to get cold, so hongjoong wrapped them both in a spare silk robe he had, the boy laid his head on Hongjoongs shoulder relaxing in his loving embrace. After another moment of silence and thinking on Hongjoong’s part he finally spoke.

“I've travelled to many lands vastly different from this one and I've met many people who look very different from me and even you, and I've heard many different languages spoken. Based on what I've learned through all my years on this planet I think I have the perfect name for you little one” Hongjoong explained. The boy was almost trembling with excitement

“What is it?! What is it?!” The boy asked impatiently, Hongjoong looked down on the small boy, so young and not deserving of all that he been handed from the cruel world, and he smiled

“I'd like to give you the name Nen. It comes from a far away land called Egypt and it means ancient waters and like those waters you are strong, brave and resilient and more beautiful than anyone cares to realize. I haven't known you long sweet child but I feel like this name is perfect for you, if you will have it.” The boy looked up into Hongjoons eyes, searching for any sign he was lying or could at any moment take what he said back, but all he could find in Hongjoong’s deep sea blue eyes was love and acceptance, two things the boy knew little of.

“Thank you…” was all the boy breathed before he buried his face into Hongjoongs chest and cried, he cried out of joy and relief and happiness, finally he had a name, finally he might actually be worthy enough to be called a good child.

“My name is Nen. “ the boy cried and Hongjoong held him tighter, fighting the urge to cry himself. After calming down they sat together in silence as the rain outside continued to pour, Nen feeling warm and protected in Hongjoong’s arms.

“Nen would you like me to accompany you back to your village when the rain stops?” Hongjoong asked, curious to see what the child would say,and almost as if without thinking Nen spoke quickly and honestly.

“I don't want to go back..” was all he could reply, Hongjoong pondered for a second before he responded, testing the waters.

“Would you like to come home with me? The place I come from, there are other people there with me and my brothers, other children and grown-ups who were treated unfairly in their old lives. We welcomed them to our home and they came with us to find peace and happiness because where we live, there is no sadness or pain and if you really would like too, you can come with me too.” Nen sat up to look into Hongjoongs face again, trying to find any hints that he was kidding or fooling him but again Nen found no trace of badness or malice in Hongjoong’s eyes and for the 3rd time that day Nen cried,

“Yes! Please, Hongjoong I want to go live with you and meet your brothers and all the other nice people, Please!” Nen cried and Hongjoong held the weeping boy again laughing at his display of joy.

“Ok my dear Nen, we shall go once the rain passes, but that might not be for a while, so you should sleep. Would you like me to play you a song to help you sleep?” Hongjoong asked, arranging the spare robes he had into a makeshift bed with Nen resting his head on Hongjoong’s lap.

“Yes please.” Nen snuggled up into the robes, getting comfy and excited at the idea of hearing Hongjoong play again.

After Nen became comfortable, Hongjoong wasted no time bringing his flute to his lips and playing a soft slow lullaby, sure to help the child sleep. Nen very quickly felt like he was drifting, the soft sound of the flute mixed with Hongjoongs scent coming off the robes- rain and tea leaves- lulled the boy and soon he drifted off into a deep sleep. All of Nens fears and worries would be forgotten, all the pain he experienced would be like it never happened, Nen would be reborn and forget what suffering and neglect even felt like. Hongjoong would be there though to guide little Nen into his new life and he vowed to take care of the child for as long as Nen needed. The last thing Nen remembered was dreaming of colors, bright and warm. They welcomed him to a new beginning, there were other people like Hongjoong had said,with smiling faces and welcoming arms and behind those people stood 7 men all various heights, dressed in multi colored robes like Hongjoong wore and each man had bright hair colors, they were Hongjoong’s brothers. Nen, feeling a little frightened at first, slowly relaxed and walked into the bright picture ahead letting his short life go and forgetting it all together, this was joy, this was love and this was peace. Just as Hongjoong had said. Nen really didn't understand where he was but he was happy and that's all that mattered.

Hongjoong waited until he finished his song to check the child, once it was over the boy had stilled, his pulse stopped. Every time he did this the people he took always slipped after the first few notes but he always finished the song as a way to honor those who made the journey from this life to the afterlife. Almost like a eulogy in the form of a song. Once he put his flute away he stood and gathered Nen’s small body in his arms. Fixing the boy's hair and wiping any dirt he had on his face. Out of the Corner of his eye Hongjoong saw the salamander form earlier crawl out from a gap in the wall. Hongjoong rolled his eyes, turning away from the creature.

“I figured you had left. I know this wasn't exactly what I had planned but Nen found me in the middle of nowhere, that's not a coincidence” He turned back and in the Salamanders place stood a man, tall and ethereal, just as beautiful as Hongjoong but with stronger, shaper features and long black hair draped languidly over his broad shoulders. The other man stood and narrowed his almond eyes at Hongjoong

“You said you weren't going to take sacrifices anymore, what changed? Brother.” the man spoke in a deep voice and Hongjoong sighed,

“Seonghwa I know you heard what Nen told me, you heard about the life he has had to face at only 6 years old, I'm sorry I wasn't going to just take Nen back to that village. You can say it’s their sacrifice for the rain but I don't regret my decision.” Hongjoong explained sternly.

Seonghwa said nothing as he walked over to Hongjoong and Nen, black and gold robes flowing behind him, gently he reached out and placed a hand on the child's head, feeling the same sadness that hongjoong felt for the poor boy.

“I know Hongjoong, I heard everything and I probably would have done the same thing but now the village will think that our kindness comes with a price, we are trying to show the mortals we are benevolent Gods and we are not to be feared. Once they find Nen’s body they will know that you took him as payment for the rain.” Seonghwa explained grabbing a piece of Nen’s hair to show it turning silver, a common trademark of the people who were sacrificed to the Sky God. With each victim of a God, there are signs or ways to know which deity had been present and for Hongjoong, God of the heavens and sky, it's the hair turning silver or white.

Hongjoong didn't say anything, he understood where his brother was coming from, he and his brothers all tried to work with humanity and help them in any ways they could and they wanted to show the humans that they can help without needing sacrifices and bloodshed, Hongjoong had heard the prayers from the people who lived in the drought stricken area and he fully intended to give them the rain without payment but he couldn't leave the boy, Hongjoong knew Nen was better off, he had to believe Nen living forever in paradise would be better than staying on earth and continuing to be abused.

Without saying another word to his brother, Hongjoong took the child and exited the cave, making his way back to where Nen’s village was. He could be on the outskirts of the village in the blink of an eye but he decided to walk and take his time, needing to come to terms with his own selfish act. A part of him didn't regret taking Nen but the other part of his soul knew that he had acted rashly and basically robbed Nen of his life. The child wouldn't be able to grow up and experience life, he would forever be a child. Humans were destructive and evil creatures, born with greed in their hearts but not all of them grew to be monsters, if he had let Nen live would Nen had grown to be a monster like his father or grow to become someone important who would have made great changes in his community or was it all futile seeing as though Nen could just as easily died at the hands of his father. This division of what was right versus what was needed tore Hongjoong apart,he messed up but he had to take solace in the fact that regardless of everything that's happened, Nen was happy now. Hongjoong could feel Nen’s joy and he knew the child waited for him to come home. Hongjoong had finally found his way to the hill the village sat upon and stopped in front of the stream that sat in the outskirts of the village, it had previously been a dried up channel in the dirt but because of the rain it was full and thriving all over again. With gentle hands he laid the child face up in the shallowest part of the stream, upon first glance it looked as if the child had just fallen asleep in the water but the pale skin and silver hair were indicators that the child had been taken by the sky deity.

In their world, gods were real and every human knew that although the humans both worshiped and feared the Gods. All Hongjoong ever wanted was peace on the planet but for centuries, humans always seemed to stand in the way, abusing the land and creatures, taking more than needed and killing each other because of greed and malice and he had always felt that it would get worse. Hongjoong wanted things to change, that's why he and his brothers swore to help the humans so there would be no fear and finally the gods could coexist with the humans, that was why the humans were created right? Hongjoong didn't really remember how or why humans were created and he honestly didn't even remember how he himself was created, it had been a few millenniums, but he always wondered why he was created, was it to be worshipped as a higher being or did he silently wish to be like the humans. Hongjoong didn't know and he felt like all he did was spend his time trying to figure it out. It didn't help that his own brothers did not share his views, the majority of them taking their place as gods who, though benevolent, were to be worshiped by the humans and they saw themselves as superior in every way. He led them well though he couldn't change their attitudes.

“Come Hongjoong, Nen is waiting for you back home with the others.” Seonghwa said softly,having followed Hongjoong to return Nen to his village.

Seonghwa had stood watching over his brother and leader, as the blue haired god stood at the stream's edge, deep in thought. All hongjoong could do was nod, long blue hair falling over his face. He felt a twinge in his gut, he knew things would get worse, but hopefully only because it would eventually get better. The sound of men approaching the stream could be heard close by and the two ethereal beings retreated silently into the forest, wishing silently for a better tomorrow.

#hongjoong fanfic #kim hongjoong #ateez au #natural-namjoon works #ateez angst #non romantic #non romantic ff #no romance #kim hongjoong x OC #ateez as gods

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anorakofavalon · 5 years

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Another Way

Reveal AU -- 3x02 -- The Tears of Uther Pendgragon Part 2

Merlin x Morgana

My little twist on it is where the reveal took place. I tried to seek a very terribly timed but still somewhat thematically appropriate place to place a reveal, and I decided on early-to-mid season 3. Because here Morgana is definitely edgier and a little more evil, but still has the potential for good. Idk, I think it’s an interesting line to walk. I hope you enjoy! I might make a couple more based off of this one if the response is good :)

“I thought… because she has magic, I thought we were the same”

“In some ways you are.”

“No. I will never be like her.”

“You have learnt an important lesson, Merlin. Your determination to see goodness in people will be your undoing. But I fear that your futures are now joined forever. She is the darkness to your light, the hatred to your love.”

He felt the darkness course through the roots, the very foundations of Camelot. It spread its way through the Earth, the soil of the city, and up through his body. His head lashed back of its own accord. It clawed up the walls, rumbling in its wake, and then the towers. He felt it reach the sky and thunder roared.

Merlin grimaced and began to run. The dead had risen, and he knew very well who did it.

~{(0)}~

He turned a corner, taking his pained breathing as yet further inspiration to get to his destination quickly. Every footfall took more from his reserves than any spell ever did.

“There are times, Merlin, when you display a sort of... I don't know what it is. I don't want to say... it's not wisdom. But, yes. That's what it is.”

It was a tad bit ironic, given what he was about to do. Arthur wouldn’t be all too happy, probably. But still... He flung his arm out and pulverized a skeleton, and another when it moved to block his path. He took a distinct, twisted pleasure in launching one out of a window. He would have to apologize to Arthur’s ancestors later.

“I don't have time. I need to get back to Camelot. The kingdom is in danger and...it's my fault. I should've listened to you. Should never have trusted Morgana.”

“You did what you felt was right, and that shows great courage, but trust is a double edged sword.”

He stood before the entrance to the catacombs. The gates were flung open, shredded by a force he knew to be magic. It lingered in the air, thick as the darkness he descended into. Merlin’s eyes were golden as he calmly took the steps down. There were skeletons hidden in the darkness but he did not bother with his hands. His magic tore them apart as he passed them.

There was light as he reached the bottom. It was unearthly, pale, a shadow of the sun’s own rays. The magic was putrid and foul and older than Kilgharrah himself. Merlin unsheathed his blade, useless as it would be. His steps were quiet as he turned the corner and saw her standing there. She was bathed in the light of shadows, a vision of twisted beauty. He knew whose fault that was.

He noted the wooden staff in the center of the room, from which the light had been birthed. Its form was as twisted as Morgana’s smile when her head turned to him. He knew from her eyes that she was beginning to comprehend just how significant he was, in the scheme of things. She was beginning to comprehend that he would never stop trying to stop her. She would be right.

Still, her old confidence hadn’t left her, warped as it had begun to become. “You should leave, while you still can.”

The castle rumbled in distress. Lightning’s light striking at the illumination of the moon. Brighter, angrier, more vicious. He thought, briefly, of Nimueh. Was he the lightning? Or was Morgana? Was she the moon and he the sky? The sky thundered, and his heart did too.

“Morgana, please. I beg you. Women and children are dying. The city will fall.”

She didn’t falter much. “Good.”

Merlin wanted to huff, but that would hardly make things better. She was bluffing and he knew it. But still, his voice wavered. “No, you don’t mean that.”

She faltered then. “I have magic, Merlin. Uther hates me and everyone like me. Why should I feel any differently about him?”

It was strange that she was seeking validation from him, pleading in her own way. Not that she knew what that was like. Morgana had never had to beg for a thing in her life.

“You of all people could change Uther’s mind, but doing this? Using magic like this will only harden his heart.”

Her eyes narrowed in frustration. “You don’t have magic, Merlin. How could you even hope to understand?”

And there it was, the moment of truth. She would hate him, if he told her the truth. If she didn’t already. Merlin wondered if she had truly forgiven him for poisoning her. Did she understand? Would she have done the same? He couldn’t bring himself to tell her. Kilgharrah and Gaius weighed heavily on his mind. She would tell Uther, or worse still, Arthur.

“I do understand, believe me. If I had your gifts, I would harness them for good. That’s what magic should be for. That’s why you were born with these powers.”

She could scream in frustration, he could tell. He probably could scream in frustration too, but she couldn’t tell. He had been wearing a mask for longer.

She fumed. “You don’t know what it’s like to be an outsider. To be ashamed of how you were born, to have to hide who you are. Do you think I deserve to be executed because of who I am?”

His first memories were of being caressed and cuddled and coddled by his mother Hunith. She was a sweet woman who worked hard and gave him everything she could. His second memories were of his delight when he could summon toys to his hand, when he made candles glow. His third memories were of being called a bastard and not knowing what it meant, except that it made his mother cry.

He remembered being called a demon child. The other children told him he was born in a lightning storm, that he was evil. And when he cried, when he wailed because the things they said hurt, the skies would darken, and rain would fall, and the other children would run to their own families. And lightning would hammer the earth.

They got bolder as they got older though, and Merlin meeker. They would hurt him. They’d push him, punch him. They would throw things at him, too. Sometimes they made him bleed and he wanted nothing more than to hurt them in return but he wouldn’t. Because he was desperate to prove that he wasn’t a monster. He was just a normal boy.

But he wasn’t and he never would be. And he hid his magic, as best he could. But it was never enough. It always slipped from his tight, white-knuckled grasp. It struck out when he most desperately wished that it wouldn’t. And everytime the villagers became more suspicious. Not just resentful of him, but his own mother as well, for spawning a demon.

And his only reprieve from that pain had been Will, who joked him through it. Who took the blame for some of the mischief that Merlin’s magic caused. Will never treated him differently. He never lied to Merlin. Will had died for Merlin. If Merlin didn’t have a friend like Will, who risked a lot and risked it often for his sake, then Merlin would never have made it to Camelot.

Morgana never had that. He could have been that, but he was afraid. He was a coward, Merlin knew as much. Will wouldn’t have poisoned his friend. He would have found another way. But Merlin didn’t. He betrayed Morgana when she had put her entire life in his hand, and he crushed it.

The rumbling brought his attention back. Her eyes were studying his own. Her pupils were dilated and searching him for the truth. For once in his life, the truth. He would give it to her.

His voice cracked. “No, Morgana, you don’t deserve to be executed for who you are. No one does.”

Her eyes widened slightly. He had caught her completely off guard. She had expected him to condemn her for having magic. Is that what he had become?

He continued. “But it doesn’t have to be like this.” He stepped closer. “We can find another way.”

They stared at each other for a moment. For one brief second, a minute, a breath, they hoped that what he said was true.

“There is no other way.” Her voice was soft, but heavy with conviction.

He nodded at her words, and stepped back. She knew he wouldn’t give up. He made a move for the rowan staff, just to get her on the defensive. She had a sword raised quickly, and he did as well. He tapped his blade to hers and the fighting began. It was a bit of a performance on both their parts. He wasn’t aiming to harm her, and for some reason she wasn’t either.

Merlin smirked a little bit. “What are you going to do? Kill me?”

Morgana got a little competitive, but she was amused. “You don’t think I can?”

They struck at each other strongly, but not as strong as either of them should have. The crack of thunder outside dispelled any of Morgana’s hesitations or distractions. She struck her first true blow, and he blocked it. They weren’t playing anymore.

He went on the offensive, striking at her head from above, she blocked it and took advantage of his close proximity. She twisted her body around and moved to strike at his abdomen. Merlin jumped back, but the tip cut at his shirt and grazed his skin.

Morgana showed surprise. “You’ve gotten handy with a sword since I’ve been gone, Merlin.”

He pointed at the cut. “Not handy enough.”

She grinned despite herself. But not for long. She tacked on a little grimace and decided to bite at him. “Awfully good with poison though, I’ll tell you that.”

His face flickered as if she had struck him with the sword. It was the worst possible time for a conversation. The castle was under siege, Arthur could have been hurt. But Merlin felt it in his heart.

He dropped his sword. “I didn’t want to. You were my friend. You are still my friend, Morgana.”

She gaped at his dropped sword. He was clearly full of surprises. But she wouldn’t allow him the chance to blindside her. “So what happened Merlin? Couldn’t find another way? Or maybe you just wanted me to die because I had magic.”

He frowned. “Is that what you think of me, Morgana?”

“It’s what you’ve shown to me. Friend.”

She moved forward with her blade aimed at his throat. He didn’t move.

“If you’re going to kill me, make it quick.”

She was puzzled once more, but she didn’t show it this time.

“Why should I?”

The blade was touching his skin now.

“Because if you don’t I will stop you.”

“And just how do you plan on doing that, Merlin? You’re useless even with a sword.”

She was baiting Merlin, but he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. He nudged the blade away from his throat and began to move forward.

“Because I do know what it’s like to be an outsider. I do know what it’s like to be ashamed of how I was born. And I already do have to hide who I am every day. Every. Single. Day.”

He was a step away from her, and she was looking up at him, startled but entranced by the way he spoke. This was no serving boy speaking.

“I can’t let anybody else get hurt Morgana. I’m a protector. I protected you too, once. I’m sorry that you made me hurt you. I’m sorry that I wasn’t a good friend to you. But I can’t let this go on.”

She moved to stab him but he knocked her away with a flash of his eyes. Not very much, not very hard, but enough that she was at a safe distance.

Her eyes didn’t turn gold in return. She was as stuck in place as the staff in the center of the room, staring at him. The room felt different. The magic shifted, and the torches became lit all at once, contrasting the pale light of the moon with a fiery hue. Merlin stood straighter, as if he was at last being honest with himself, admitting to a heritage older than time.

He locked a look with her, and gave her a moment to sear the gold of his eyes in her memory for all of time. He reached towards the rowan staff from where he stood, and pulled it towards him with magic. It flew to him with little hesitation, as if it had always been his servant. He took it in his hands firmly, and something gave in the atmosphere. The dark magic bristled, afraid of what was to come, but powerless to do anything about it, like Morgana herself.

Merlin raised a knee and slammed the staff to it, and with a spark, he tore it in half. Morgana recalled the sheer power of the staff. When Morgause gave it to her it hummed in her hands, prickling at where she held it like a thousand needles.

“I’m not powerful enough to wield this, Morgause.”

“Do not worry my dear, that staff was crafted from the Rowan tree in the center of the Isle of the Blessed. It carries its own power. None have laid eyes on it except for our kind, the High Priestesses, and the blood god that planted it.”

Her disbelief was immense as the darkness receded from the sky. She and he both felt it retreat from the towers and the walls of the castle. They felt it abandon the undead it had summoned. They felt it rush down through the soiled soil and into the catacombs, to attack Merlin.

Wind rushed through, the only sign of the physical manifestation of the evil Morgana had summoned. And yet, somehow, Merlin stood calmly in the center, and with his glowing eyes silenced it once and for all, without moving or flinching.

It was dreadfully quiet, and Morgana hated it because she was certain that even he could hear her heart pumping. Could sense her fear. And still his eyes were glowing, as if mocking her and apologizing all at once. As he stood before her, the flames of the torches framing his figure, she wondered if he had planted the rowan tree himself.

But her awe at his power was short-lived as the gold receded from his eyes and he looked more like Merlin and less like Death. When he stared at her with those insufferably blue eyes, when he moved to help her up, only then could she bring herself to burn with the anger that she was feeling.

Merlin had magic.

Merlin had magic, and he killed her.

She trusted him, and he did not trust her. The betrayal pulled at her throat more than the hemlock ever could have.

Her eyes water and she stood up, still holding the sword at him. It was useless of course, they both knew it. Even her magic would have been useless. But she held it up against him anyways.

“How many?” She demanded. Her voice was raw with anger. “How many of our kin did you betray? How many have you sacrificed to Uther’s hatred Merlin?”

Merlin flinched. “Just you.”

That had hurt her in ways she was not prepared for.

“How many have you killed for his sake?”

“Too many Morgana. But not for Uther’s sake. Never for Uther’s sake.”

“Then for who? Arthur?”

Merlin nodded. “He is destined to bring magic back to Camelot, Morgana. I have to protect him. He’s my friend.”

She reeled. “So was I.”

Merlin couldn’t respond to that. His heart was thudding in his chest. His throat was constricted. This was a terrible idea, but Morgana had to know.

“You’re a monster Merlin.”

His face crumpled. “I didn’t want to poison you, Morgana.”

“That’s not what this is about Merlin!” She screamed. “You knew. You knew I had magic. You could have helped me and you-you...” She glared at him. “You pawned me off for the druids to deal with. And you got them all killed. You did that Merlin. That was you. I’ve lived with it for years but it was never my guilt to hold.”

She was up close and personal now, pounding her fist on his chest with every accusation.

He let her. What she said was nothing new. “Yes, Morgana. I’ve done terrible things, I know that. But I’m trying. I’m trying really hard to change things.”

He could feel the heat of her tears as they dripped down her face. “How could you do this, Merlin?”

She stared at him, desperate for an answer for the sake of her own sanity.

“I-” Merlin did not like how he was at a loss for words. Arthur and the knights were probably still fighting. He decided he needed to sit.

He moved towards one of the tombs and sat on it, his hands clasped together. Her eyes followed him, brows knit together.

“I would say...” he began carefully, “that it wasn’t my choice. But that’s not true. It has been my choice.”

She began to open her mouth to say something but Merlin cut her off. “I’m not talking about poisoning you Morgana. I really did have no choice then. If I didn’t do it, Morgause wouldn’t have stopped the siege of the city.”

She offered nothing to that, which he supposed was a sort of permission to continue.

“I have been able to do magic since I was a baby. I did magic while still in a cradle. I could make things fly, or light up candles.”

Tears had stopped streaming down her face, and now she was listening. Guarded, but curious. If anyone deserved an explanation it was her.

“I was always told that I was a monster, Morgana. You’re just another person in a long line of people. I had to leave Ealdor when I was nineteen because if I didn’t, bad things would happen...” He let that hang in the air. “My mother sent me to Gaius. He’s her uncle, and a good friend. She sent me here to Camelot because I needed to learn to control my magic and nobody else could teach me. Let alone in Ealdor.”

He thought, for a moment, that her eyes softened. Her face resolved to neutrality soon enough.

He tapped the tomb with his fingers. “When I stepped through the gates the first person I met was Gwen. She was so kind. As we entered the citadel, do you know what the first thing I saw was Morgana? I saw you, looking down at the execution of Thomas Collins. For having magic.”

He huffed. “I came from a place where having magic made me a demon, and waltzed into the heart of a kingdom where having magic made me a dead man instead. Gaius told me as much. I saved his life with magic, and the very first thing he did was tell me off.”

Merlin laughed to himself. “He still does that. But he’s not the only one… On my first night, a voice called my name. I went down to the caverns and I met a dragon.”

She gasped, her first reaction. “It was you, you released the dragon while I was away. Gwen told me about it.”

Merlin nodded. “That was a mistake.” He looked at her intently. “One of very many of my mistakes, Morgana. But that first night he told me I was destined to bring magic back to the land. But he told me I could only do it through Arthur. If I was to fulfill my destiny, I needed to protect Arthur.”

He sighed. “And so I did. Not only because it was my destiny, but because Arthur became a friend. And despite everything, sometime I see him and I just know that… he is the king we’ve been waiting for.”

“He’s Uther’s son, Merlin.” Morgana snapped.

“He’s much more than that Morgana. And you know it.”

She changed the pace. “And what else did the lizard happen to say?”

Merlin quirked a quick smirk at hearing Kilgharrah called a lizard, but he answered her. “He answered my questions mostly, and sometimes he warned me about things… and he was wrong.”

Morgana watched him warily. “Like not telling me about my magic. That was his directive, I presume?”

“No.” Merlin said. “His directive was for me to kill you. Or to let you die.”

Her mouth opened at that but she didn’t say anything.

“He told me, Morgana, that you were destined for darkness. I told him you had a good heart.”

Merlin stood up and approached her. She didn’t move. “It wasn’t only until you began to meet with Morgause that I suspected maybe he wasn’t wrong.”

Morgana glared at him. “Oh? I’m the evil one? It seems to me that I was just making your job easier. By killing Uther, Arthur could be king.”

Merlin shook his head. “If you killed Uther, Morgana, if you did it with magic… Arthur would never accept it. He would become just like his father. Arthur has made great strides but he’s not ready to become king yet.”

“So you’re just going to wait until Uther dies of old age? You’re going to let our people suffer for that long in order to preserve Arthur’s innocence? I thought you were a coward but it turns out you were just a fool. You went to a dragon for advice and listened. Like a puppy.”

“I listened to you, too,” he shrugged “whenever you had a vision, I acted on it.”

She was brought up short for a moment but brought it around to the offensive. “And yet you couldn’t tell me about your magic.”

“Don’t you think I wanted to Morgana?”

“Clearly not all that much if the fact that it took me raising an army of the undead is any indication.”

Merlin groaned. “Morgana I’ve been alone all of my life. Nobody to tell my secret to. Nobody to share myself with. I had Will, and my mother before, but they didn’t have magic they couldn’t understand. Gaius doesn’t practice anymore. And anybody else just...died. For my sake. Or because of a curse. Or because I had to stop them from hurting Arthur.”

He looked up at her. “But then there you were with your visions. I suspected, I hoped, but I couldn’t bring myself to believe. Until that night that you told me what you suspected. And suddenly I didn’t feel so alone anymore. Because you were my friend Morgana. You risked your life going to Ealdor to fight for me, a servant. And you had magic.”

There wasn’t any particular emotion on Morgana’s face, except for perhaps the shadow of a smile that flickered on her lips as she recalled the day she went to Ealdor.

“I wanted to tell you so badly, but… Well, my excuse was, is, that all my life I had been told not to tell anyone. Since I was a small child. I have always lived in fear. It’s...it’s not an easy thing to admit for me. And you’re the king’s ward, Morgana. Add that to the fact that the dragon insisted you were evil and I...”

He motioned to her. “I failed as a friend, and I chose not to tell you. And I’m sorry. But I’m telling you now. You’re the first person from Camelot I’ve willingly told.”

She stared at him evenly for a few moments. “So what now, Merlin? I can’t stop. I’m too far gone. And I don’t think you will stop protecting Arthur either.”

“No.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Why would you tell me this?”

“Because you deserve it, Morgana. You’re still good. You trusted me and I hurt you. So now I’m trusting you.”

“You’re an idiot Merlin.” She bit. “If I tell Arthur, you will be executed or exiled. Do you think he will forgive you? You just gave me the key to winning Camelot. What will she do without its protector?”

“Arthur wouldn’t kill me. He would be hurt that I haven’t told him. Conflicted. But he wouldn’t kill me. Just know, Camelot will always have my protection.”

Morgana bristled, working herself up again. “What has this kingdom done for you that I haven’t? Why do they deserve your help anymore than I do?”

Merlin didn’t answer her question, choosing to answer the unaired one instead. “I told you about my magic because we could find another way, Morgana. It doesn’t have to be like this.”

She sheathed her sword. “They’ll be looking for me.”

Merlin nodded.

They assessed one another until Merlin spoke.”Will you tell Morgause?”

“I don’t know.” Morgana said.

Merlin nodded, and decided to grin, despite his rapidly beating heart. “Just remember, if Arthur banishes me, there will be no one to help him put on his night shift or keep his figure trim. The last time I was gone for more than twenty four hours he couldn’t even find his sock drawer.”

Morgana stared at him incredulously as he suddenly disappeared, taking the torchlight with him. She almost couldn’t help the giggle that came out of her mouth. She was horrified and confused, and very much in need of a nap. But she did wonder just how much Merlin had given up for Camelot. What was his play? Why would he tell her about his magic?

Arthur burst into the catacombs in a panic with wild eyes, and she startled. When he saw her the relief on his face was somewhat… heartwarming.

“Morgana! You’re safe!” His eyes wandered around the room and landed on the rowan staff. Her heart leapt up in panic, but he came to a different assumption than what she feared. “Did… did you stop the undead? With… that?” His eyes went to her sword.

She couldn’t help but smirk a little. “Is it so surprising? I used to beat you in fights all the time when we were younger.”

He shook his head disbelievingly. “Okay, uh, we have to tell father about this.”

She nodded, clenching her jaw.

Arthur began to turn around towards the stairs but stopped and said something unexpected. “Morgana? Good job. I’m glad to have you back.”

Her face made a humble smile, and she felt a small rush of affection for her brother. “I’m glad to be back.”

Arthur cleared his throat. “Right, well, you wouldn’t have happened to have seen my idiot manservant would you? He’s always in the most unlikely of places after these sorts of things. Wouldn’t have been surprised if he had tripped his way down here.”

Morgana froze a little. She could have told him then and there Merlin’s secret. Even blamed the staff on him. But she couldn’t. Not yet. She had to strategize.

She laughed. “Not that I noticed.”

They began to head up the stairs. Morgana knew only one thing. She would be sharing some more words with Merlin.

For better or worse, this was far from over. But maybe… maybe they could find another way.

#mergana #merlin x morgana #bbcmerlin #katie mcgrath #merlin #colin morgan

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singingwordwright · 7 years

Text

Shadowhunters recap - s2ep18 “Awake, Arise, or Be Forever Fallen”

SHADOWHUNTERS Recaps Intro and Masterlist

These recaps may contain spoilers from the books (that may or may not happen in the show.) Proceed at your own risk.

Recap and meta under the cut.

Gotta give it to Max, he’s a little badass. Temper that with a bit of discretion and maybe he’ll actually live to reach adulthood, contrary to all book canon. Like, seriously Max, you couldn’t have gone to find Alec or Izzy once you realized what the hair leading you to Sebastian meant, instead of confronting Sebastian yourself?

Gratifying just how many times Sebastian gets stabbed in this episode. Of course, I’d prefer it if one of them was a mortal wound, but alas…

If Lindsay was lurking in the hall outside Alec’s office, she should have heard Max’s head crack against the desk. A blow hard enough to knock someone out and cause them to bleed from their nose and ears would be LOUD. I’ve literally heard real people hit their heads in ways that do much less damage and it sounded like a melon exploding.

Now that the banter and fun goofing around is back, so is Simon and Maia’s chemistry. I think this is the magic of Simon. I bought the Climon relationship the most when he and Clary were being giggly and having fun together. I found Simon and Maia’s chemistry in s2ep06 to be off the charts, again, when they were bantering and laughing. For some reason, whenever Simon forgets to be that guy whom women can laugh and have fun with, he loses a lot of what makes him click in his various potential pairings.

My frustration hit its peak with the fact that Sebastian was right there in the middle of everything while everyone was all, “Where is Jonathan?” There’s only so many times you can yell “HE’S THERE!!! HE’S RIGHT FUCKING THERE IN FRONT OF YOU!!!” at the TV before you just throw your hands up in the air and say, “You know what? Fuck it. You’re too stupid to live. I hope he guts you all.”

They carried this plotline right up to the brink of me hitting that point.

Current sexuality: Magnus saying, “m’lady.”

“Your crush” Oh, I’ll show you a fucking crush, you pint-sized wretch!

Let’s all take a moment to bow our heads and be grateful the producers are making a young-adult urban fantasy show and not a hospital drama. Because they would be really, really bad at it. Seriously I was cringing.

And what the fuck were the runes flashing on the monitor over Max’s head about? Are they there to remind the infirmary medics “This is how you draw an iratze. This is how you draw Nourishment. This is how…” (I’m not sure what that last one was, but it looked like some Shadowhunter stylized version of the Caduceus or the rod of Asclepius.)

Of all the times for Magnus to refuse to take Alec’s call.

Wow. I’d forgotten what an asshole Season 1 Alec could be. He’s come a long way, considering that in-universe it has literally been six weeks since he and Magnus met (No, seriously, check out my timeline if you doubt me. I did the math so you don’t have to.)

I say “asshole” in the most loving way possible, of course. He had his reasons, but he was indeed an asshole. It just goes to show how unhappy and uncomfortable in his own skin he was, and how much losing that burden of hiding himself away from the world impacted him.

Still, I sort of wanted Magnus to push back a little harder when Alec low-key threatened him. “If you let anyone know…”/“Oh, you’ll do what, Shadowhunter?” Because Magnus could almost certainly kick Alec’s ass with all but one of his little pinky fingers broken.

I’m glad we’re finally getting down to business with the whole Ollie thing. But IIRC it’s against the Accords (or Covenant?) to let mundanes know anything about the Shadow world. Which means Luke could be in trouble if the Clave gets wind of her finding out.

And why is so so eager to know, anyway? Like, why was she all up in his business?

I’m wondering if it doesn’t actually have something to do with Maia, considering the way Ollie zeroed right in on her. Say, Ollie’s a cop, but she also, idk, moonlights helping Sam (who maybe is a private investigator?) by taking on missing person cases at the behest of desperate families. Contrary to book canon, we’ve been given some indication that Maia’s parents may actually care for her, so what if they hired Sam and Ollie to track Maia down, and find out she’s gotten mixed up in what might look to be (on the surface) a weird wolf-worshipping cult?

IDK I’m just spinning bullshit theories.

I like how at SDCC Isaiah said that Luke is grooming Maia to take over the pack someday, and how we actually sort of saw that in action here.

I liked Jace’s distress here, because with the exception of s2ep08 and a pat on the head in the last episode, we haven’t really seen him and Max interact or gotten any impression of how his relationship is with Max. And his distress here feels a lot more…sincere? relatable, maybe?...than his oft-repeated bouts of brooding manpain over his upbringing under Valentine.

And, strangely, his pain feeling more genuine also made Clary’s empathy and support feel more genuine. This moment made me feel more of a connection between them than just about any other moment they’ve had on-screen together.

Funny how when you build a relationship between characters out of moments and situations that are arise organically within the plot—rather than forcing it—it just works better, isn’t it?

I feel like I should say something about Bat, but I just don’t have much of an impression of him or what part he’s going to play within the plot, yet. Kevin Alves seems incredibly sweet and eager to be a part of the show, however, so there’s that?

“Rebooting of the brain.” Really? (The part of me that actually knows something about medicine is rolling its eyes so hard right now. This was badly done. Suspension of disbelief in one area only works if you are meticulously grounded in accurate reality in other areas, and this would have been a good area to do that. Massive head trauma that can’t be magically woo-wooed away.)

I have lots of thoughts on the decision to keep Max alive, most of them not good. I was prepared for the pain of him dying, which would have struck pretty close to home because I have a 10yo son. And as a storyteller, I think it would have gone a long way to establishing the stakes for this story.

Like, Valentine wants to commit genocide, and Sebastian wants to help him. We all get that. And we’re all horrified by it. But genocide is a MASSIVE concept to try to really wrap your head around. The human brain, I think, tends to shield you from really grasping it. It’s just too much.

This is a problem faced often by storytellers who are writing stories in which the fate of the world is at stake. It’s too big. The audience can’t connect with it personally, can’t internalize it. So you take that, and you distill it to make the stakes personal. One death, of a character who is beloved by your protagonists and hopefully by your audience, an innocent with all the potential in the world that will now never manifest, stands in for the thousands or millions who will actually die if the bad guy isn’t stopped. That death becomes a rallying point for your protagonists, and a symbol to your audience of just how evil your bad guy is and how much he needs to be stopped.

In short, Max needed to die. He needed to die as tragically as possible. It would have had a lot more storytelling mileage.

God. This scene was just everything I could have asked for their first time to be. I’m pretty sure I wrote a line in a fanfic once about Magnus telling Alec that one of the rules of his bed was that you had to be able to laugh in it, so the giggling and giddiness was just so perfect. And the fact that Magnus responded “No such thing” when Alec expressed concern that he might be doing something wrong is really something else I could have written myself.

It was tender and sweet and sexy without being objectifying and I loved it.

I will say, though, I’m probably in the minority in that I never wanted or needed to see a scene where Alec was confronted with Magnus’s cat eyes for the first time and explicitly stated his unstinting acceptance of him. I always felt it would be othering to go that route. And I felt like this idea that Magnus, who is so incredibly powerful, would lose control so easily a little absurd. I always liked to imagine that the idea that Alec would find NOT being accepting of Magnus unthinkable, that he would be honestly and sincerely befuddled by the idea that Magnus’s eyes might be a Big Deal. “Yeah, he’s a warlock, he has a warlock mark, I’m not sure why that’s supposed to be something that matters.”

That said, if they were going to go there, then this was the way to do it. The thread that weaves through Magnus and Alec’s story in this episode and ties past to present is the fact that they come from different worlds, and with those different worlds come different obligations and priorities. So in this case, the othering was entirely the point and it played into that theme.

So, if it had to happen, I’m glad it at least happened within this context and wasn’t just schmaltzy.

I really loved Luke being such a badass here but I’m certain allowing Russell to live is a bad idea.

Seriously, though, Russell. Not only is Luke a badass just as a werewolf, but he’s got the martial training of a Shadowhunter. How do you imagine you’re going to win this?

Probably one of the most realistic fight scenes I’ve ever seen in terms of showing just how exhausting fighting becomes in very short order. Too many drag out too long before the combatants start to show fatigue.

I really want to know about the cooks at the Jade Wolf. Are they werewolves themselves? Is that why the kitchen staff never bats an eye at anything, including these people waltzing in and out of the kitchen and storeroom?

The scene with Maia explaining her backstory was extremely well done and Alisha Wainwright is all things wonderful and I love her.

“This is what love got me.” Let’s take a moment to recognize the symmetry of Maia and Simon’s stories though. Becoming a vampire, a Downworlder, is what love got Simon as well.

I can’t say anything about this scene that hasn’t been said before, and better, since they released it as a sneak peek. But it’s so beautiful and my heart hurts.

Magnus’s moment with the Lightwoods all together on one side of the hall and him by himself on the other is incredibly poignant but I can’t find the words to really examine it properly. This is the point at which things just began to hurt too much and my brain stopped being able to cope with it.

I’d really like to know how Jace, who can sense Alec’s happiness over things like having sex with his boyfriend for the first time, couldn’t sense the lack of a spike in grief that would have surely occurred upon Max’s death. Grrr.

The fight sequence with Sebastian taking out all the guards was amazing and Will Tudor is brilliant. Did he really use a sword that was still stuck through someone’s body to parry a blow?

What the hell was with him just using his hand to open the crypt, though? No rune or anything. Can Sebastian somehow channel magic?

This whole thing with Clary was awesome and for once she seemed to be working for her miracles so I’ll ungrudgingly let her have this. The one thing I don’t know is what finally tipped her off about Sebastian. Was the electrum nugget thing too warm after he handled it? Did she just realize she never saw his palm? What made her chase after him and check his palm?

I loved her stabbing him. Twice. I’m fully in support of stabbing Sebastian. Yes. Please. Let’s stab Sebastian more. Sebastian for Pincushion 2k17.

Sebastian continues to be a creepy-ass fuck. Seriously, WHY did they decide to go with the incestuous obsession thing? There are so many other places they could have taken that story.

I like that her Open rune that burned through Magnus’s wards also exploded the Institute security doors. I appreciated that for a couple reasons. First, because Sebastian taught her to do that, to use her runes and make them more powerful. Second, it’s also a nice little nod to the books, since we didn’t get that scene of Clary totally disintegrating and blowing up Valentine’s barge with that rune.

Sebastian has vamp speed, too?

I want to ship them, but I haven’t managed it yet. In-universe it’s been like, a week, since Clary and Simon broke up. And of course we know they’re not end-game. But the writers ended up making me buy Climon more than I ever expected to, so maybe they’ll do the same with this one.

I just don’t want to see either of them hurt, so if Simon ends up ending it with Maia, I’m going to be upset, and if Maia ends up ending it with Simon I’ll be upset. *sigh*

I hated seeing the home Simon has been making for himself torn apart like that.

This is the moment of my first death and the beginning of buckets of tears. This look on Magnus’s face after Alec says “our way back to each other.” I can’t. I just can’t. He’s just so heartbroken here.

And the way Alec’s eyes close when Magnus touches him.

And the way Magnus’s voice almost breaks when he says “I love you, too.”

And the way Magnus is trying to smile, just a little. To hold on to some of the joy he’s found with Alec. To file this portion of his life away as a happy memory. To remember Alec as a good thing and not a source of sorrow.

There are so many nuances here and every single one of them fucking slays me dead.

Alec’s disbelief and denial.

Alec’s youthful, naïve insistence that if they just work hard enough, if they’re just determined enough, they can find a way, and Magnus’s world-weary wisdom and centuries of experience telling him there’s just no chance for them.

“You once asked me what I was afraid of. It’s this.”

And here’s my second death. That all along we thought that Magnus was afraid of being alone, being abandoned, like Camille said, he never does well losing the people he cares about.

So, we’ve always thought he was afraid Alec would break his heart. Leave him. Be repulsed by him. Choose duty over him.

We should have known better. Magnus has lived long enough to have his heart broken before, and he knows he’ll survive it.

His real fear is inflicting that pain, that loss, on someone else.

My third and finale death. Alec stifling a sob is where I just lose it entirely.

So I guess what I’m saying here?

Yes, this is a break-up. That’s my read on it. Sorry. It just is.

I don’t believe it’s a permanent one. Of course it’s not. If they’re not back together by the end of the season, at least on some sort of tentative, provisional basis, I’ll be very surprised and extremely pissed off. If I’m left with this boulder sitting on my chest over the hiatus I’m not sure I’ll survive. This show is supposed to be my happy place and I think if they leave me in this hurty place for very long it’s going to ruin it for me.

I don’t think the producers will let this linger long.

But this scene right here? As far as Magnus is concerned in this exact moment as he’s walking away from Alec?

He thinks they’re done. He thinks they’re over. He means it to be that way.

Something will happen to make him change his mind, though, and that’s important. Because here’s the thing:

We’ve seen Alec choose Magnus over and over and over.

He chose Magnus in s1ep06 when he walked away from the Institute and duty to take an evening to at least investigate the possibility of doing something that wasn’t about duty.

He chose Magnus in s1ep12 when he walked away from his own wedding.

He chose Magnus in s2ep06 when he turned his back on his own fears and misgivings and plunged into this relationship.

He chose Magnus in s2ep08 when he challenged his mother’s lack of acceptance repeatedly and sent her a very pointed message about their relationship.

He chose Magnus in s2ep10 when he rejected Aldertree’s words about the impossibility of relationships between Shadowhunters and Downworlders.

He chose Magnus in s2ep13 when he risked censure from the Inquisitor to take a stand for what’s right.

Even when everything he’s ever been trained and brought up to do is telling him to do the opposite, he has chosen Magnus repeatedly.

The only time we haven’t seen him choose Magnus was with regard to keeping the secret about the Soul Sword, and even then, his choice was about Magnus, even if it was paternalistic and wrong-headed.

What we haven’t seen, though?

We haven’t seen Magnus choosing Alec. We see him clearly aware of the difficulty in their situation, especially since s2ep12, but he never really chooses to stand against it. Which is not to say he’s not committed, not at all. We’ve seen Magnus put himself on the line and expose himself and make himself vulnerable for Alec. That’s huge. But with the exception of his hesitation to keep pursuing Alec in s1ep12, we haven’t seen him make that same deliberate decision to damn the obstacles between them and make this relationship happen. His commitment has been more along the lines of ducking and covering and hoping whatever is heading toward them blows over before it pushes them to this critical juncture.

We need to see him make that choice. Everything since s2ep12 has been leading to him making that choice.

Now, I don’t want to step outside my lane, so I’m gonna tread carefully here.

The thing we have to remember is that Alec, coming from the privileged group, is much safer choosing Magnus than Magnus is in choosing Alec. He’s got that safety net built in, so it’s easier for him. He may face censure and perhaps a decrease in some of his advantages (like being passed over for job promotions) but no consequences that he might face are on the same level of what Magnus might face.

So the two dilemmas and the choice to stand against their respective obstacles are not equal. If Magnus choses their relationship over his people, he doesn’t just face censure, he faces genocide. Pretty big difference there. The only possible way he can justifiably choose Alec at all is if he somehow discovers that choosing Alec dovetails conveniently with the best way to protect himself and his people.

My prediction is that something in the next episode, or in the finale at the latest, is going to bring Magnus to that decision point and make him turn around.

But for the moment? Right now, this scene?

I know it’s going to be an unpopular opinion, but Magnus really does mean this to be a breakup.

#shadowhunters #shadowhunters meta #meta #s2ep18 #recaps #s2b

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