#morgana never wins because she always spends her time trying to find a way to find the crown without actually scavenging

[leondegranced]

My piece for DarKymi for the Merthur Glompfest 2023!

#uther hates this day but it's tradition #gwen might never be queen in the merthur timeline so she gets one day as a treat #and it's the best day camelot's ever had #morgana never wins because she always spends her time trying to find a way to find the crown without actually scavenging #gwaine and lance have snuck in in the hopes of winning and getting their banishments revoked #percival's just here for a fun time #merlin and arthur haven't even realised what day it is #my art #bbc merlin #merlin bbc #merthur #merlin #arthur #i'm not tagging every character #merthur glompfest 2023

[readermishok]

Top 20: my favorite interactive stories

Hello, guys!

Once I saw that one of my popular and mostly likeable posts was about IF, I decided to share with you my personal top of the best IF authors I have known. 

I read a lot of WIPs (work in progress) and finished novels since three long years, so I might recommend truly incredible stories. I apologies for adding pics and some additional info about my MC, but I wanted to bring spark of life into this top.

MC – Julia (deShanre), she|her.

I'll start with telling about quartet of works greatly affected on me. It was almost like… living my second life. It felt so real, so vibrant. In the darkest times it gave me the strenght to meet the next day.

1. Samurai of Hyuga, Books 1-4 by Devon Connell (WIP, planned 7 books). Patreon. Buy Book 1.  Buy Book 2. Buy Book 3. Buy Book 4.

Samurai of Hyuga is a brutal, heart-pounding interactive tale. Prepare to enter the land of silk and steel, where fantasy clashes against grim reality, and where the good guys don't always win in the end. It's a harsh world with tough choices at every turn. Good thing you're the toughest ronin around.

My MC: Ronin, the master of the Jigoku Ittō-ryū, The Sword Who Cuts the Heavens

Jigoku:

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2. Fallen Hero by Malin Ryden (WIP, planned 4 books). Tumblr: @fallenhero-rebirth​. Patreon. Buy Book 1.

Become the greatest telepathic villain Los Diablos has ever known! Once you were famous; soon you will be infamous. That is, unless your old friends in the Rangers stop you first. Juggle different identities and preserve your secrets as you build new alliances and try to forget the friendships you've left behind.

My MC: Sidestep Puppetmaster:

Jane (puppet):

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3. I, the Forgotten one by Bacondoneright (WIP, planned dilogy). No tumblr or Patreon|Ko-fi. Demo.

It has been five long years since the end of The Border Wars. Five long years without a purpose. Endlessly drifting around from one job to the next, serving your apathetic father only to receive no credit. Nobody in Kanton truly knows what you did. How you won The War, leading the armies of Kanton as a youth.

Nobody knows what it took out of you. Spending your formative years in war is not good for one’s outlook on life. Your emotions now lie behind a mask of stoicism. After all, all emotions do is cloud one’s judgement and wind up costing lives.

Nobody knows how much it hurt to be cast down from the throne and succession. To be disinherited, cast away from the family, and left aside to die.

My MC: The Marshal, the bastard child:

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4. The Exile by Pheo (WIP). Tumblr: @exilethegame​. Patreon. Demo.

You’re the ex-commander of the Kingdom of Plaithus, and your name is known by all. It used to be whispered in fear by your enemies, and the very mention of it could send men fleeing. Your people had cried it out in battle, swords raised in your honor as they faced death fearlessly. You were a hero, and to some, a legend.

Until you weren’t.

You can’t remember what happened. All that’s left are blurry faces, screams, and the feeling of blood on your hands. The only reason you still have your head is because of the pity of an old friend.

And now? It’s only been a year since the incident, and already things are going wrong again when a rather peculiar sorcerer offers you absurd amounts of gold in exchange for protection from… well, that’s the problem, isn’t it? You don’t know.

My MC: the Commander:

Ex-commander.

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Shepherds of Haven by Lena Nguyen (WIP). Tumblr: @shepherds-of-haven​ Patreon. Demo.

Shepherds of Haven is a dark fantasy interactive fiction game. In it, you play as a Mage living in a world where magic is outlawed and your people—those possessing supernatural powers—are oppressed and reviled. The world is ruled by humans who believe in science, technology, and industry: at best, you and your kind are nothing more than a fairytale, and at worst you are the state’s greatest threat.

My MC: Human Mage, gunner

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God of the Red Mountain (WIP). Tumblr: @friendlybowlofsoup​​​ Demo.

You are a spirit born of the Red Mountain–though you’ve run away from it long ago. You’d be content to stay away, too, if not for the mountain god who suddenly comes looking for you. But what purpose do they have? And what exactly is your end goal?

Based on East Asian myths and folklore, you play as a powerful, nameless spirit in a shifting world. As a being caught between death and life, you are connected to a stream of limitless power, and the more you are known, the more powerful you become.

However, your journey will not be so smooth. You have been cursed by powerful, malignant beings known as Foxes, and it’s only a matter of time before you fall from sanity yourself.

My MC: Owl spirit, human appearance

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The Bastard of Camelot by Rebelgirl (WIP). Tumblr: @llamagirl28​ Demo. Ko-fi.

Your child will be the undoing of Camelot. Born under an ominous prophecy, you are the incestuous bastard of King Arthur and Morgana Le Fay. Will you fulfill the prophecy, or rebel?

Be the villain they expect you to be, or the hero they don’t- be remorseful or unapologetic, make your destiny or be Morgana’s tool of revenge.

Arthur can’t have any more children, making you the sole blood heir, and sole other Pendragon. As a Pendragon, you have the power of dragons.

The Bastard of Camelot is a trilogy following Mordred as they become a knight of the Round Table, and save or destroy Camelot.

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The Seven Heirs of Ophaesia: Part One by (WIP). Tumblr: @fantasyfawkes​​​ Demo. Patreon.

The Seven Heirs of Ophaesia is a low-fantasy game set in a Renaissance-esque world where you play as one of seven heirs to a fictional kingdom rife with intrigue. As the King’s seventh child, you are a prince or princess of Ophaesia, a luxurious nation along the southern coast of Selanes. You are the first child of your father’s third wife, a woman hated throughout the realm due to the pervasive suspicion that she poisoned the previous queen, and her poor reputation taints your image in the eyes of the court and beyond. From your days in the palace nursery all the way to adulthood, you must navigate treacherous court politics and delicate foreign affairs while trying to find your place in the world — and your family.

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 Attollo by A.E. Jendryke (WIP). Tumblr: @attollogame Demo. Patreon.

After several years of radio silence, you receive a message from your younger sibling that carries a strange sense of urgency to it. Either out of familial concern, or boredom, you embark on a journey from your residence to your siblings apartment in New Hampshire to see what’s wrong and then get on with your life. Too bad it’s never so simple.

Deal with cults, interdimensional entities, and far too many people with superpowers (where, for once, you’re the odd one out) in your journey to bring your sibling back from an underworld far out of your control.

My MC: lawyer

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 Land of the Dragon (WIP) by Hilsee Foo. Demo. Last update was long ago... (crying)

Welcome to the Land of the Dragon! Here you shall experience an adventure in an ancient land, navigate court politics, forge friendships, and maybe even pursue romance if you so choose!

The Dragon Emperor sits upon the throne, as he inherited it from his father before him. But all is not well in the realm. In the provinces, an Uprising is gaining both strength and popularity. At court, the Elder Prince plots in secret to usurp his brother's throne. And within the Emperor's harem, the Empress and Imperial Consort vie for power.

As the Emperor and Empress' only trueborn child, you are at the centre of this power struggle. When all hell breaks lose on your 21st nameday, what will you do to find your place in this world?

All this, and more... In the Land of the Dragon.

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The Northern Passage by Kit H.J. (WIP). Tumblr: @northern-passage​ Demo. 

The Northern Passage is a horror fantasy CYOA, where you play as a hunter sent up north to investigate a series of missing people along the border and in the port cities of the Blackwater.

Working with your handler, Lea, you will travel north and discover that things are far worse than you ever could have imagined, and that there is something powerful lurking out in the deep, dark sea…

My MC: Hunter

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 The Nameless by Parker Lyn (WIP). Tumblr: @parkerlyn​​ Demo. Ko-fi.

The Nameless is a low fantasy WIP that is character and romance driven, with your race (sheevra) loosely based on stories about the fey and other myths. Where deals are a weapon and a name is the most intimate secret someone can offer. You play as a sheevra investigating the city of Renescen after the complete disappearance of one of four sheevra Clans in the world, running across a ragtag group of both sheevra and mortalis along the way.

Will you find out what happened before it comes for you?

Mortalis appearance

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Virtue’s End by Crimsis (WIP). Tumblr: @virtuesend-if​​​ Demo. Patreon.

In a dark world overrun by monsters from the shadow plane, you exist as a hybrid monster hunter called a helvling, a human whose very soul has been Bound to one such entity. Travelling from warded settlement to warded settlement with your surly Keeper, Shea, you have the thankless task of defending the common folk against these horrors from Hel.

Usually, a fate such as yours is only reserved for the lowest of criminals, as penance for their loathsome deeds… You wouldn’t know if your fate has been deserved, however, since upon completion of your Binding seven years ago, all former memories of your human life have been lost.

You’ve been moulded into a weapon by the Virtuous Order, trained to be an unfeeling and ruthlessly efficient hunter… But is that who you are? Who are you, truly?

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A Tale of Crowns (WIP). Tumblr: @ataleofcrowns​​​​ Itch.

A Tale of Crowns is a high fantasy love story with Middle Eastern roots, both on pc as well as mobile! It’s entirely text-based, with choices throughout to shape both your main character’s personality and skills as well as influence their relationships with others. There are four love interests for you to choose from, both female as well as male, each with their own stories and secrets for you to uncover!

Crown of Arsur

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 Wayfarer (WIP). Tumblr: @idrellegames​ Demo. Patreon.

When your mercenary work backs you into a corner, you take the only option available and accept a contract: to travel to the city of Velantis and steal an ancient artifact said to be blessed by the gods. Simple, right?

But Velantis holds more than you bargained for. Gathering a ragtag party of malcontents and renegades from across the city, you must navigate enemy factions, meddling guilds, and escalating political tensions. Your choices will ultimately determine the city’s fate – and the fate of every person who lives there. 

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When Twilight Strikes by evertidings (WIP). Tumblr: @evertidings​ Demo. 

You are a bounty hunter. Responsible for taking in rogue supernaturals, you work for IAOS—the International Agency of Supernaturals—where, alongside your best friend and partner, you two have quickly become the best hunting duo of the branch. After a particular tricky hunt, you brief your boss, Caine Atheron, and come back to work the next day to find that he has mysteriously disappeared overnight, the company is now in the hands of his best friend, Sebastian Mai. And though no one else seems to question it, something tells you that there’s more to the story.

With bounty cases rising at an alarming rate and a second mystery unfolding, you and your ragtag team of allies set out to find the truth.

But as you go further and further, the secrets you uncover begin to make you question: who… or what exactly are you fighting for? 

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Passanger by Pime (WIP). Tumblr: @the-passenger-if Demo. Ko-fi.

Do you like monsters? Do you think they are the best part of their respective movies, books, and shows? Then The Passenger might be the game for you.

The Passenger is a choice script work in progress in which you are an eldritch abomination that’s about to be devoured by another unthinkable creature. Good news is you are pretty crafty and know how to jump dimensions to escape your ghastly fate; bad news is, you’re now stuck on Earth, trapped inside a dumb human larva.

As years go by, you realize the amount of energy you need to leave this horrible dimension behind is a lot more than you anticipated. Not to mention the creature that almost ate you all those years ago never really stopped looking for you. But there’s no way it’ll pinpoint your actual location… right?

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Scout: An Apocalypse Story by Anya (WIP). Tumblr: @anya-dev​ Itch.

It has been over a decade since a worldwide natural disaster obliterated the natural planet and decimated human civilization. There are small groups of humans still alive, fending for themselves, trying to create communities amongst the rubble.

You are a 24-year old scout living in a small community on the edge of the Orange Plains. You lost your mother and your sister before finding your way here. You are primarily an academic, and you put your skills to use on regular scouting missions. With your best friend and your scouting team leader in tow, your small group is a pillar of the Community.

On your first scouting mission of the hot season, you meet the leader of the People Across the Orange Plains. Will you break from the Community you have known your whole life? Ask a romantic partner to join you? Discover secrets that your own people have been hiding? Become a leader yourself?

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Body Count by Nell Bolton (WIP). Tumblr: @bodycountgame​ Demo. Ko-fi.

Your life isn’t going how you’d hoped. Despite having big plans when you graduated, you’re stuck in a dead end job and a crappy flat with zero romantic life to speak of. All until a friend convinces you to join the cast of a new reality TV show.

The premise is simple: 12 singles are sent to a villa on a tropical island and they live there together for a month. After 28 days, the couple who is voted by the other islanders as being most likely to withstand the test of time will win £500,000. In addition, the couple with the highest body count will win £500,000. Total prize pool? £1,000,000.

In this context, “body count” refers to how many people you’ve slept with… right? Well, that’s what you think when you sign your contract. Turns out, though, that not all of your fellow cast members will be using that definition to get to the prize.

Fall in love, win big money, solve some murders and try to stay.

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Project Hadea by nyehilism (WIP). Tumblr: @nyehilismwriting​​ Itch. Ko-fi.

You play as an OPERATIVE of Scytha Industries, a highly selective private security company. As their most elite Operative, you possess many skills and talents, not to mention top-of-the-line equipment - including your very own AI module, IVI.

This, of course, puts a price on your head. An AI module goes for billions on the black market; carrying one around in your skull is, perhaps, not the safest idea. Sure, you’re more than a match for anyone who might come after you - but no-one outside the high levels of Scytha knows about it, so you should be safe anyway, right?

Wrong.

Wrong, wrong, wrong.

I do want to thank all these tremendously talented authors for creating such complex and beautiful worlds. I love it with all my soul.

Thanks for reading, I hope you will find story for yourself. I’ll gradually extand this top! 

Stay tuned.

#samurai of hyuga #fallen hero #i the forgotten one #forgotten one #the exile #God of the Red Mountain #shepherds of haven #The Seven Heirs of Ophaesia #attollo #The Bastard of Camelot #Land of the Dragon #The Northern Passage #Virtue’s End #The Nameless #A Tale of Crowns #Wayfarer #When Twilight Strikes #Passanger #Body Count #Project Hadea #Scout: An Apocalypse Story

[bitsandbobsofwriting]

The aftermath of Merlin snapping, and yelling at Arthur in the middle of the forest;

Arthur pushes for change, the gang takes bets on when Merthur will happen, and someone, somewhere, is grumpy.

Part 2 of Merlin’s Angry Outburst. 

Part 1   Part 3   Part 4   Part 5

Once Arthur has a first draft of the repeal, the first people he brings in on it (with Merlin’s approval, of course) are the 5 knights, Gwen, Gaius, and Morgana.

(Morgana, who later that evening comes back to Arthur's chamber in tears (Merlin is also there) to reveal her magic, and thank him for not being Uther.) 

All of them enthusiastically agree, after only a little conversation.

Elyan and Leon are the most... dubious, but only because of the practical factor, they don't disagree with the actual repeal.

After months of the gang working in secret, they reveal their best draft to the council. At least half the council are new members that Arthur appointed, the rest are left over from Uther’s time.

They argue back and forth for a while, half vs half. A few of the older members, who were around before the purge, slowly start changing their minds.

In the end, it takes them maybe a month to get a majority, and Arthur overrules the remaining opposition. He is King after all, technically, he doesn’t even have to have a council.

Days after the agreement is reached, Arthur goes out personally to collect a few specific Druids, who had been waiting just outside the border for the go ahead.

It takes maybe another month to go through all the laws thoroughly, changing and editing and altering what needs to be altered. With the help of Arthur's close advisors on the political aspects, and the help of the Druids, Merlin, and Gaius, on the magical aspects (what should be allowed freely, what should be monitored, and what should remain fully banned).

The city celebrates when the announcement is made, they all loved the new King anyway, and had been overjoyed with the drop in executions, and deliberate ignoring of small instances of magic.

After a feast to celebrate the new found freedom among the people, the gang gathers once more, in private, and Merlin tells a shortened version of the story he'd told Arthur all those months ago.

None of them are that surprised (Gaius, Morgana, and Lancelot already knew, of course).

If they hadn't suspected Merlin of being a sorcerer before this whole thing started (Leon, Gwaine, and Gwen definitely suspected) , then they had certainly begun to in the last few months. They cheer when Merlin finishes telling them "just how often I've saved your oblivious arses" .

They cheer even louder when Arthur announces that he would be made court sorcerer, and it would be made official in a ceremony before the week ended.

There are no cheers when Morgana stands.

Curious eyes land on her, probably due to how terrified she looks, but the small encouraging nods and little smiles she gets from her brother (her Brother), Merlin, and Gwen, give her the strength she needs to tell everyone of her magic as well.

They see she is frightened, they imagine how difficult it must have been, being at first Uther’s ward, and then his daughter. They smile gently, and she receives hugs a plenty. Once all the congratulations are out of the way, she sits back down next to Gwen, still shaky and full of adrenaline, but happy.

She spends the remainder of the group’s quiet celebrations with her hand gripped in Gwen's under the table.

(Read this how you want, I personally envision it as the start of something)

So the days draw on, Merlin is announced Court Sorcerer, Arthur hires another manservant and gives Merlin a large set of chambers in the same hallways as Arthur's, complete with all the books on magic Arthur can find, and several of the magical artefacts that had previously been kept locked away (Merlin and Arthur are the only ones who are able to gain access to the room, something magicky I guess).

(No one mentions that that corridor is supposed to be for royalty only. Leon figures they're bound to realise that they're in love with each other any day now, and then Merlin will practically be royalty anyway so... might as well cut out the middle bit of having to shuffle chambers again later on).

The kingdom is prospering, and for months after the initial announcement, and implementations of the new laws, sorcerers and nobles from all over Albion, visit Camelot, to give congratulations to the King.

They give gifts and provide knowledge.

The Druids, however, are a slightly different story.

The ones who had been helping with the paperwork, had been... odd(?) around Merlin. But they respected his wish to keep all of that under wraps, or at least until it was announced publicly.

Arthur and Gaius know the whole Emrys story. Lancelot and Morgana know bits of it... but other than that... as far as anyone is concerned, the newly promoted Court Sorcerer is just another wizard.

The new Druids entering the kingdom are paying brief respects to the Forever King (I mean... at this point, he's still only King of Camelot... which is what he was before the magic ban repeal), before staring in reverence at the Court Sorcerer stood by his side.

They respect his wishes to keep the worshipping and gift giving to a minimum, though they still come to him for requests of miracles and ask him to perform druid ceremonies (blessings and name-givings and weddings and funerals (though they prefer to call them celebrations of life, rather than commiserations of death) and such).

Merlin can only brush off so many displays of such awe before the rest of The Gang demands to know what’s up, at which point he has to come clean about the whole... “Most Powerful Warlock To Ever Walk The Earth” thing.

Much to Merlin’s chagrin (and everyone else's amusement) the Druids still insist on calling him Emrys. The stubborn ones sometimes even go for "My Lord Emrys", which gets them a scowl from Merlin (and barely concealed laughter from everyone else).

Maybe... later on... when Morgana is more comfortable with her magic, after a few months practicing with Merlin (with a supportive Gwen Always at her side) , she is announced as the Court Seer.

Merlin had never had much luck with prophetic visions, but once Morgana’s fear died down, once she learned to let it flow, and breathe through it, the visions come easier, and kinder.

She stops seeing only visions of doom, and worst case scenarios, instead she has dreams of the many paths the future may take.

She does not panic when a path seems grim and dark, for she has a King and a Warlock and Gwen, by her side. Always. And they work through the future together.

So the ban has been repealed officially for around 6 months.

Arthur is a couple months away from completing his second year as King. And he and Merlin are still beating around the bush.

The betting pool for when they’ll finally get together has been growing bigger and bigger. Practically the whole castle is in on it now, with Gwen and Morgana as the ring leaders. Whoever wins... will be very lucky.

(It's Leon in the end, he pays attention, and he know what his boys are like. But he's a noble and has no need for the money, he pays for a few rounds of drinks and donates the rest to one of children's homes in the lower town).

But the war comes first.

~

Camelot has been prospering, and has many supporters throughout Albion, but one of the kingdoms, it doesn't matter which, you decide, does NOT like this.

Scouts and small patrols have been needling Camelot’s borders for months now, and Arthur and his Council (and Inner Council) have been making quiet preparations. They know that some sort of... something, is coming soon.

Especially when Morgana begins to dream of battles and blood and lightening.

They prepare for, and expect, a full scale war, but they hope for some negotiations and a peace treaty with the opposition.

Their hopes are dashed, when a messenger is escorted into the throne room, wearing The Opposition’s colours, with a letter.

Said letter is an angry rebuttal of everything Camelot stands for, full of accusations of abandoning tradition, and spitting in the face of great leaders, of which this soft boy-king should NOT be counted as. 

At the end, there was an official declaration of war.

The messenger boy was obviously scared to death, and once Arthur read the P.S, which invited Arthur to torture and/or execute him to the whatever extent he wants, he understood why. Without any hesitation, he offers the boy a job in the stables, a new wardrobe of clothes, and a servant’s bed in the castle.

After the official council meeting on the matter, setting up war committees, laying out contingency plans, organising the distribution of emergency evacuation plans, and discussing potential aid that could be requested from allies, Arthur pulls the gang together, for their own meeting.

“We knew this was coming, and there is no need to panic yet. Our outer borders are well patrolled, and we’re still getting up to date reports. The city walls hold strong, but I want to send out patrols to warn the villages of what’s coming. Start closer to the border, and work our way in. Leon?”

“My Lord, I have teams prepared for exactly that already, I just need to give the word and they’ll go.”

“Good. Morgana, I need you to try and keep focusing your visions, if we have even a small idea of how they might try to initiate the first battle, it’ll be a huge advantage.”

“Me and Merlin have been practising some new techniques to control where and when I can see, we’ll write everything down, and ask the Druids if they’ve seen anything as well.”

Arthur holds in a smile at the confidence in her voice. He is unendingly proud of how far his sister had come, and made a mental note to tell her that when all this was over.

“Brilliant, keep me in the loop. Gwen, when we’re done here, go and let the forgery know, the Royal Household will pay them extra to push out as much long range ammunition as they can. Arrows and crossbow bolts, we need as many as they can produce.” Gwen nods, and Arthur finally looks towards Merlin:

“And Merlin, I need you to be ready. Don’t wear yourself out too much in the next few weeks, I need you in good condition, if we’re to win this with minimal casualties-”

He glances over at Morgana before he continues:

“If the two of you could also ask the Druids if they have any volunteer healers. Make sure they know they aren’t obligated to come, but any help in the infirmaries would be greatly appreciated.” Morgana nods once more, as does Merlin, before he speaks:

“There’s a camp a couple hours ride outside the city at the moment, we’ll head out at first light-” He pauses and closes his eyes for a second, tilting his head, before looking to Morgana:

“They’re expecting us.”

Arthur addresses the room again:

“Right. I think that’s all for now, anyone have anything to add?”

Gaius responds after a moment:

“My Lord, if I could make a request for a few servants to help me set up supplies for the infirmary? Extensive preparations will need to be made to ensure that I have all I’ll need. Preferably people with rough herbal knowledge, if at all possible.”

Arthur nods straight away, responding:

“Yes, of course, I’ll ask the Housekeeper and the Steward who they can spare this evening, and they’ll be ready for you in the morning. Anything else?” At the silence in the room, Arthur tells everyone to get to work.

Leon marches straight down to the training grounds (Lancelot, Gwaine, Percival, and Elyan following him) to ring the summoning bell and inform the knights of the developments, and their tasks.

Gwen heads straight to the forgery (her and Elyan still oversee work there, but they have employees (and a few trainees) to run it) to give the Kings order.

Gaius shuffles out, and makes his way back to his quarters, already making mental lists of ingredients needed, and work to be done.

Arthur, Morgana, and Merlin are left, the royal siblings thinking to themselves, and Merlin thinking to someone else. Arthur contemplates that the whole mental link thing he had going on with the Druids was extremely useful.

Both his and Morgana’s thoughts were interrupted by Merlin huffing, and clenching his fists as he opens his eyes, obviously unhappy with whatever was said:

“Merlin?” From Morgana has the Court Sorcerer looking up from scowling at the table. He replies after wiping the frown off his face:

“Oh, it’s fine. They just made a... stupid suggestion is all. Don’t worry about it.”

“Stupid? Doesn’t sound like the Druids. What was it?”

Merlin looks mildly uncomfortable at that, and replies slowly:

“It... doesn’t matter. I’ll tell you another time. It’s late, you should practice some meditation and head to sleep, no potions tonight. And remember to keep some parchment and a quill by your bed, so you can scribble down anything you see-”

Merlin stands abruptly and heads towards the door:

“-I’m going to check the wards on the outer wall, and push a little more energy into the wells. I’ll see you both bright an early.” With that, Merlin heads out the room swiftly.

Arthur looks to his sister questioningly, but she shrugs as she responds:

“Who knows. “I’ll tell you later” means he doesn’t want you to know, OR he’s hoping I’ll forget because he doesn’t want either of us to know. He’s right though, I should meditate for a while-”

Morgana stands at this:

“- hopefully I’ll see you before we head off, if not, I suppose it’ll be dinner in the evening. Good night, brother.” Morgana leaves the room gracefully, heading in the direction of her chambers.

Arthur thinks for only a moment, before rushing off, catching up with Merlin as he readied his horse, preparing for the journey to the outer walls:

“I’ll come with you. I find I quite enjoy watching you do magic, and to be perfectly honest, I could do with some fresh air to help me think.”

Arthur pretends to ignore the slight blush that dusts Merlin’s cheeks, and readies his own horse. The two of them ride out of the stables and make the journey down the cobbled roads in comfortable silence, side by side.

They take their time on the journey, and the 15 minutes of companionable silence is finally broken by Arthur, who looks at Merlin curiously, as he says:

“So what did they suggest?”

Merlin looks up sharply at that, broken from his deep train of thought as he dumbly replies “What?”

“The Druids. What was the stupid suggestion?” Merlin’s eyes widen at that, and he blushes once more as he looks determinedly forward:

“Oh. That. I told you, it doesn’t-”

“Merlin...”

“Oh fine! They suggested that I... that I forge a mental link with you. Like the one I have with them.” The sorcerer purses his lips at that, and continues to avoid Arthur’s gaze:

“You can do that? Well... would it be such a bad idea? I mean we aren’t going to be able to meet and discuss things as often as I’d like through this whole ordeal. AND you’re basically the Kingdom’s powerhouse, I’m sort of relying on your magical know-how here. Surely it wouldn’t be a bad thing? For us to be able to converse across the battle fields?” 

Arthur, in an effort to not be hurt, reminds himself that he doesn’t know all that much about magic, and it very well could be a stupid suggestion, instead of one that Merlin is just personally opposed to.

Merlin, in response, looks to Arthur in great shock, before sighing and looking down to his horses mane:

“It.... is possible. And fairly easy, technically. But it would be painful, AND permanent. I wouldn’t be able to undo it after we won. And a temporary connection takes far too much energy to maintain, even for a short time. I just figured you wouldn’t want me in your head for the rest of our lives.” He tries to inject a little humour into his words, but it falls flat, and he just seems sad.

Arthur pretends he doesn’t notice however, and responds quickly:

“How painful are we talking? I mean I’ve been hurt pretty badly before. And... how exactly does it work? Would we be able to read each other’s mind constantly, without the other knowing? Or what?”

Merlin raises his eyebrows in shock at that, and his answer comes out slowly as he looks at Arthur:

“Like... a really bad headache? Imagine the hardest you’ve ever been hit, without passing out. It would last for a few minutes after the connection is initially forged, but would fade slowly over the next day or so. And no. Once the connection is established we wouldn’t be in each other’s head all the time, we would just be able to sort of... project our voices to one another. Other thoughts would be safe, even if you were thinking about me, I wouldn’t hear it unless you were thinking to me... if that makes sense.” 

By the end of his explanation, he’s looking nervously at the King, who is deep in thought:

“Hmm. Ok. I... only if you agree but... it might not be a bad idea. Even after the war is over. There have definitely been times where I’ve needed your opinion on something but you’ve been elsewhere, or we’ve been in the presence of someone else. Of course we’ve been fine so far, if you don’t want to, but-”

Merlin interrupts him, speaking quickly:

“I’m fine with it. I agree, it would be useful. So... I can bring what we need back from the camp tomorrow?”

Arthur nods firmly:

“Yes. The sooner the better, we can do it tomorrow evening, if that’s enough time for you?” Merlin once again looks shocked at this, as Arthur stares at him:

“Oh! Yeah, Yes. That’s fine. Like I said, it’s not particularly difficult, and I can ask Gaius to prepare us something for the pain during the day. Are you... are you sure? It is Permanent.”

Arthur rolls his eyes and huffs:

“Yes, you said that already Merlin. Are you sure?”

Merlin nodded his head decidedly, and spoke confidently:

“Yes. You’re right, it’s not a bad idea. Come on, if we hurry, we’ll make it to the walls, and then to the main well, and then back to the castle, before dark.”

The pair of them hurry their horses, and after another 10 minutes of comfortable silence, they finally reach the City Gates.

The guards give a quick bow, and The King and The Court Sorcerer jump off their horses before handing the reigns to one of the Gate stablehands.

Arthur (and the guards) watch in barely concealed wonder as Merlin presses his hands against the rock of the wall, and closes his eyes.

The golden glow can still be seen from below his eyelids, and he hums slightly as he frowns in concentration, seeming to push into the wall.

Arthur sees a short of... sheen, ripple across the rock, and extend into the sky. Merlin steps back and nods, admiring his handy work:

“They’re holding strong, I’ve extended the height as well. Kilgharrah and Aithusa should be the only ones able to get over it without alerting me now, from the air at least-”

Merlin heads to retake his horse, Arthur following him, before he continues:

“Though I still want to check the tunnels again at some point in the next few days.”

“Of course. Relax Merlin, it’s barely begun, and the borders still hold strong. We’ve plenty of time before things kick off in any way.” He makes sure to speak quietly. A public announcement hasn’t been made yet, and it would be bad if rumours started spreading before The King had time to put together a proper disclosure.

Merlin nods distractedly, and urges his horse to go faster as he heads towards the main well, in the town square. It’s late, not long until sunset, so there shouldn’t be many, if any, people there. Arthur speaks again:

“Why are we visiting the well? I wasn’t aware of any problems?”

“There aren’t any, but once the announcement is made, and once the outer villages are told what’s happening, we’ll have hundreds, probably thousands, of people flock to the city for safety. I just want to make sure we’re prepared for such an influx, and boost our water levels a little.”

Arthur nods at his response, but doesn’t say anything. He chooses instead to admire the man Merlin had become. He held himself differently, more strong, confident in who he was. Just like he had back when he was still a manservant, he served Arthur, and his people, above and beyond his job description. Merlin took upon himself, not only the politics he was supposed to oversee, but the personal safety of both the King, and every Camelot citizen, and he did it all with an alarming amount of grace.

Arthur sometimes catches himself thinking that it was almost as if Merlin was built to be a king. He may not like the spotlight, but he was a protector, and leader, unlike anything Arthur had ever seen before.

“I don’t think I ever thanked you, Merlin. It feels like years ago now, that you yelled at me in a forest.” He says it with a grin, but Merlin flinches. He continues before The Sorcerer interrupts him though:

“Really Merlin. Thank you. You were right, I would’ve got there in the end, but it wasn’t fair for people to suffer in the mean time, and you took the fall in their place. You’re a hero to your people... and to me. You should be proud of your accomplishments, I know I am.” 

Arthur resists the urge to duck his head as Merlin looks at him in bewilderment, a definite flush on his cheeks as he replies:

“I... thank you, Arthur. I always had faith in you-” Merlin begins to grin before he continues:

“-and besides, someone had to knock you down a peg. Perhaps you should hire someone to take you into the forest and yell at you every once in a while.”

Arthur laughs at that, and Merlin tries to push down the blush as Arthur responds:

“Now Merlin, why on earth would I hire someone for such a job, when I already have you?”

Merlin chuckles as he answers:

“Yeah, and don’t you forget it, My Lord. Hold the horses, I’ll just be a minute.” With that, Arthur realises they’ve made it to the well, and dismounts as Merlin has, holding both of the horses reigns as he watches Merlin approach the well.

The Sorcerer crouches down, and once again closes his eyes in concentration as he presses his hands into the stone of the well. The glow is a little less bright this time, but Arthur admires it nonetheless.

Merlin finishes quickly, and gathers his horse from Arthur once more, nodding towards the castle.

Arthur follows as Merlin hurries towards the looming building. He wasn’t sure why he was in such a rush, but he only begins questions it when Merlin hurriedly hands the horses of to a stablehand, and continues to run up the castle steps.

Arthur can only just keep up with Merlin, not having the breath to ask him what’s wrong, before Merlin suddenly comes to a stop, catching his breath for a moment to go through a door leading to the highest balcony on the West of the castle:

“Merlin... what.... what are you-”

Merlin wordlessly interrupts The King as he points to the skyline, the sun only a few minutes away from touching the horizon.

There’s not a cloud in sight, and the sky is painted in oranges and pinks in front of them, bleeding into deep purples and blues behind the castle.

Merlin finally mutters, not looking away from the sunset:

“Call me a girl all you want Arthur, but nothing compares to this. It’s beautiful, I come to watch it whenever I’ve got the time.”

Arthur had only glanced briefly at the sunset before looking back at Merlin in wonder, a fond smile on his face (not that Merlin would notice).

He stares at the side of Merlin’s face, the orange sky making the gold in his eyes look even brighter, and the glare of the fading sun making his hair shine. A gentle breeze has Merlin shiver slightly, and Arthur’s smile widens as he responds, so quietly he’s not even sure if Merlin hears him:

“Hmm. Beautiful.” He doesn’t look away.

~

THIS IS COMPLETED! All 5 parts have been posted:)

If y’all want my thoughts on anything specific let me know✌️

#merlin #bbc merlin #merthur #arthur #king arthur #the knights of camelot #the knights know about merlins magic #arthur knows about merlins magic #court sorcerer merlin #merlin/arthur #sir leon #leon #sir percival #percival #sir lancelot #lancelot #sir elyan #elyan #sir gwaine #gwaine #morgana #good morgana #gwen #guinevere #fluff #merlin is a bamf #bamf merlin #powerful merlin

[spxllcxstxr]

Bumps and Bruises • M.M

(GIF is not mine)

Request: Hi! Sorry, May I ask for a Marlene McKinnon x fem!/gn! reader fic, Soulmate AU where they feel each other's pain. — anon

Summary: Two Quidditch rivals finding out they’re something...more (Soulmate AU)

Warnings: Mentions of food/eating, injury description, brief mention of blood

Word Count: ~2k

A.N: NonGryffindor!Reader, this is my first time doing a Soulmate AU so I hope this is ok! It’s hard to find a balance between Soulmate AU and normal AU, but I’m sure I’ll get better with it in practice! The ending is kinda iffy imo, but it’s not terrible. Hope you enjoy!

****

The first thing you feel when you wake up on Friday morning is a flare up of painful throbbing blossoming across the outer part of your right thigh.

You groan, prying your eyes open and pull back your blanket.

The pale light filtering through your curtains is enough to see the grotesque purpling of swollen skin. You poke and prod at your thigh, occasionally hissing out in agony.

The bruise is both familiar and unfamiliar at the same time.

Its circular shape is something you see all the time. As a Beater on your Quidditch team, Bludger bruises were commonplace. The issue is, and this is where the mark becomes unfamiliar to you, when you went to sleep last night, there was no evidence of any such mark.

This was peculiar because you never had a history of sleep Quidditch, and you’re sure that if you got up in the middle of the night in a trance, at least one of your dorm mates would’ve told you.

And this certainly wasn’t some accidental hitting your bed frame sort of injury. This was ten inches in diameter, black and blue like a ball of pure iron slammed into you. As a self proclaimed Quidditch expert, you’re fully aware of what caused this.

But this conclusion brings up more questions than answers. Sure, you had practice after classes yesterday, but you would remember being hit full force—and you don’t.

But you have no time to sit and ponder over this mystery, you have to make it down for breakfast and then endure hours of classes. If only you could skip ahead to tomorrow’s match against Gryffindor.

You limp your way through the dorm, unable to put the usual amount of weight on your right leg. The room is empty, save for Bedelia, who, as usual, is still snoring underneath her blanket. On your way out, you make sure to wake her up by slamming the door shut as hard as you can.

Hobbling down to the Great Hall with a bag of heavy books slung over your shoulder is no easy feat even when it’s something that constantly happens.

The Great Hall is buzzing, though most of the noise is coming from the Gryffindor table.

The ceiling reflects the morning, bright blue and not a cloud in sight.

By the looks of it, the Gryffindor Quidditch team just got back from their morning practice, still panting and sweaty. For the entire week leading up to a match, James Potter, their captain, makes them practice and go through relentless drills in preparation. When they’re not on the pitch, he’s quizzing them on maneuvers. You’re lucky that your captain and fellow Beater, Morgana Sharpe, gives you the day before a match off, mostly to rest and review. If Potter was your captain he would’ve ended up in St. Mungo’s by now.

Your eyes wander over to Marlene McKinnon, her blonde hair up in a bun, face red and splotchy from practice, bare arms showing off muscle. Her chest heaves under her scarlet top.

“Practicing getting your arses handed to you?” You joke, leaning against their table.

Marlene scoffs. “Oh, you wish.”

Her deep brown eyes find yours, a troublesome twinkle shining through.

“Focus, Marlene, can’t have you fraternizing with the enemy!” James laughs out between mouthfuls of eggs.

“More like flirting with the enemy.” Sirius snorts, leaning closer to Remus, who chuckles into his glass.

“Oi! Piss off, Black!” Marlene snaps, the red on her face spreading.

Dorcas squeezes in next to her, dittany in hand. “How’s the leg, Marls?”

“Aw.” You pout. “Did McKinnon get a boo boo during practice?”

She scowls at you. “Don’t you have a potion to blow up?”

You clench your jaw and ball your hand into a fist. She’s got a point.

“Alright, enough trash talk, you two, leave it for the pitch.” James rolls his eyes.

Instantly, a weight lifts from your shoulders.

“I gotta go eat, anyway.” You smile warmly at your sort of friends. “So I’ll see you guys in class.” You wave before turning to your own table.

You join the rest of your team the table, squeezing through the tight huddle. Parchment is scattered all over the surface, some with crude drawings of maneuvers, some with written stats.

“Right, now that we’re all here,” Sharpe grunts our in her thick Irish accent, shooting you a disgruntled look. “We have a change of plans.”

“Change of plans?” Webb, one of your Chasers, asks. He looks up from his diagram, eyebrows raised.

“Greene’s soulmate took a tumble and landed him in the hospital wing. Can’t play tomorrow’s match.” She scowls, drawing clenched tightly on her hand.

“Again?” Your team groans.

Rupert Greene spends more time in the hospital wing due to his soulmate’s clumsiness than from playing a dangerous magical sport. That’s the way it’s been for the four years you’ve known him, and you have a hunch that it’ll never change.

“So we’re gonna have to put in Knight? Against Gryffindor?” Webb cries out, eyes wide. “No offense, but he isn’t ready to take on those pricks!”

Sharpe runs a hand through her dark brown hair. “Well, I guess we all just need to pray to Merlin some Gryffindor gets knocked off their broom.” She sighs.

The news of Knight replacing Greene for the match against Gryffindor puts you in a sour mood, making the bruise on your thigh throb more painfully.

You march through the corridors, face contorted in a permanent frown, barely paying attention to your lessons. You do, however, manage to keep your potion from exploding, which Slughorn is thrilled about. Match notes and plays take over your free time, pushing all your homework to Sunday, quickly deciding that this match is far too important. Marlene sticks her tongue out at you whenever she gets the chance as she hobbles through the corridors or looks away from Flitwick in your shared Charms class.

Sharpe drags you and the rest of the team up to bed at nine, lecturing you all about a good night’s rest. You roll your eyes, but you do only spend half an hour studying moves before heading to bed.

You wake up jittery.

You’re always nervous the morning of normal Quidditch matches, but this isn’t a normal Quidditch match. Gryffindor has gone undefeated for the entire season so far, and you just need to beat them. You crave to watch the smug look fall from James’ face and the cocky attitude that Sirius is infamous for crumble. You want to win. At the same time, though, you’re hesitant to see the frown on Marlene’s face. Those perfect lips deserve to shaped in a perfect smile.

Your bruise isn’t as irritated as yesterday. It’s still black and blue, but you really need to dig your thumb into it for it to hurt.

You stretch, listening to your joints pop before strutting down to the Great Hall to join the rest of your team.

Taking a deep breath before making your way through the threshold, you try your best to calm down and radiate confidence. You crack your knuckles and make your way to your table.

Marlene throws you a playful glare across the room, which you teasingly reciprocate.

Breakfast is a quiet affair for your group. Feet tap impatiently against the stone, nervous habits running wild.

The weather is perfect for Quidditch. There’s a slight breeze and a couple fluffy white clouds drifting through the blue sky, providing the occasional blotch of shade. It reassures you and calms you down on your walk down.

Sharpe gives her usual pep talk in the locker rooms. It’s all about blood, guts, and glory, and how we better not mess this up for her or else “she’ll haunt us from the great beyond.” Knight is white as a sheet, trembling underneath his robes.

The crowd roars out from the stands just above, your cue to make your grand entrance. Brooms are taken off their positions in the wall and in a single filed line, you all follow Sharpe out onto the pitch.

“And here it is, everybody,” Remus’ voice calls out over the chaos. “Captain Sharpe, (Y/Ln), Webb, Byrne, Spade, Opal, and their reserve, Knight!”

Your house cheers louder at your introduction, your eardrums pounding. You smile and nod at the crowd, excitement bubbling up inside of you.

“While the two captains are taking positions and shaking hands,” You hear as you mount your broom, Potter and Sharpe facing each other. “I have been paid quite a significant amount to say that according to James Potter, Lily Evans looks absolutely gorgeous today—“

“That has nothing to do with the match, Lupin!” McGonagall cries.

“Godric, Minnie. I’m just doing some adverts, it’s all good. No need to—“

A large thwack echos throughout the pitch, but you’re too wrapped up in Hooch blowing the whistle.

Quickly, you soar up in the air, Beater’s bat in one hand, chasing after your teammates to defend them.

You barely hear Remus over the whistling of the wind and your own grunts.

You watch Marlene laugh after she bats a Bludger away from James, the bat giving off a wicked crack. You’re momentarily mesmerized by her figure. How her tongue peeks out in concentration and her ponytail bounces wildly in the wind.

A moment passes and your arm erupts in pain, and to add onto that, you’re hurtling towards the grass.

You clutch your arm and brace for impact, breath being forcibly ripped from your lungs. Tears well in your eyes from both the pain and the air lashing against your body. Your Quidditch robes flap wildly behind you.

The landing, however, isn’t that bad. You end up in the grass, your bad arm protected. You assume Dumbledore is the one to thank.

You let out strangled pants, sky spinning around you, a piercing whistle sharp against your ears. Your arm screams in agony.

“(Y/Ln)!” Sharpe calls out, broom clutched in one hand. “You alright?” Her face shines with sweat.

“Bloody hell, she’s got quite the swing.” You groan, face contorting in anguish.

In the corner of your rotating vision, you watch red and gold blurs crowding around someone else.

Madam Hooch and the rest of your teammates are talking, but you can’t understand a word they’re saying.

Tendrils of black fog enter your vision and suddenly you’re out cold.

You recognize the hospital wing bed immediately. It’s firm, but not unbearable, the white cotton sheets rubbing against any exposed skin.

“So (Y/Ln) and McKinnon, eh?”

It’s garbled and you’re unable to place the voice, but it’s understandable.

“What’s this ‘bout me and McKinnon?” You manage to slur out, eyes blinking open, the figures above you blurry.

The world gradually clears itself up, your teammates surrounding your bed. Your left arm is wrapped tightly to your chest with a white cotton sling. The pain is dull, but it’s the most noticeable feeling present.

“Ah, well...” Webb scratches the back of his neck, averting his eyes.

“They’re talking about how I finally felt my own strength.”

Slowly, you turn your head to see Marlene sitting up on her bed, carefully watching over you. Her friends surround her, knowing smirks gracing their faces.

Her blonde hair is a bit of a tangled mess from the wind, but her smile is blinding in the light.

“You mean...” Your eyes widen in shock.

Marlene nods her head. “Soulmates.”

You bite your lip in response.

“I mean, it was pretty obvious, wasn’t it?” Sirius asks, looking between his friends for approval. “They literally wake up covered in bruises after like every Quidditch match!”

“Shut up, Pads!” Remus hisses, smacking him on the leg. “They’re having a moment.”

Sirius rolls his eyes and holds his hands up in mock surrender.

Your eyes drift to your thigh where the mysterious bruise was.

“I’m guessing you got hit by a Bludger during practice?” You ask.

“And you’re the one that gave me that broken bloody nose during detention!” Marlene exclaims.

You nod shyly, remembering when Knight accidentally threw the Quaffle at your face during a late night practice.

“Are we really that bloody stupid?” You laugh.

“You want a real answer or...?” James starts, repositioning his glasses.

Marlene shoves James off her bed, and he yelps before ungracefully tumbling to the floor with a crash.

“Guess this is our cue to leave the two stupid lovebirds alone.” Lily giggles before patting her friend on the back and leaving, the Marauders and your own team trailing close behind her.

Because the bones in your arm are practically shattered, you’re confined to the hospital wing for at least another day, but with Marlene at your bedside, it’s been made bearable. You talk about all those mysterious injuries you’ve acquired over the many years and learn the extent of your idiocy.

With various bumps and bruises to match, at the end of the day, the two of you are much more than Quidditch rivals.

#marlene mckinnon x reader #marlene mckinnon #Marlene McKinnon fanfiction #Marlene McKinnon fluff #the marauders x reader

[monotonous-minutia]

Merlin mini-rant

I really like the show but one of the things that doesn’t sit quite as well with me is the handling of who started as possibly my second-favorite character, Morgana.

I like heroine Morgana. She’s sassy and spunky and sweet, has a little more humility (and possibly humanity, at least at first) than Arthur, so they balance each other out at the start. Despite the fact that (and I’m still not really sure why they do this, because it doesn’t last long) the narrative seems to ship them at first, they have a really sweet, genuine sibling relationship that helps build the foundation of their friend group/found family. Morgana is physically strong and agile without the narrative making her sacrifice her femininity to be so (as is too often seen). She’s also very smart and talented in ways that others aren’t; while several characters are off winning physical battles afar, she’s at home winning battles with words. There are many episodes in Season One where the story would not have ended as well as they did if she hadn’t said what she did, to whom she did. She knows the ins and outs of the palace, she knows who’s who, and she knows what everyone’s priorities are, so she can almost always find the right thing to say to make them see sense, and often come to realizations that help them grow as people. She has a deep, innate empathy to those around her regardless of rank, while still recognizing ranks enough to utilize her power appropriately (and sometimes just be a little priss--she’s young, y’know). She’s incredibly gay with Gwen and I love it.

I also like villain Morgana. Her journey from the above-described heroine to the ruthless villain we see by the end of the series is well-thought-out, and the slow deterioration of her morality based on the events she goes through is both heartbreaking and makes me want to bang my head into the wall. She continues to be incredibly powerful, still using her wit and words as weapons, as well as becoming an alarmingly great sorceress. Her degeneration from the stately figure we see early on to the deranged witch by the end of the action is meticulous. And the fact that she’s still very attached to Gwen even after all these developments, and even when Gwen makes the choice to stay in Camelot, is an interesting touch that adds a depth to her that isn’t always seen with villains.

But I gotta say I love heroine Morgana more, and not really just for emotional reasons.

I’m not mad that the main villain of the series ends up being a woman, because the idea that women can’t be villains is just ridiculous to me. And, as said before, her arc is very well-written imo, so it doesn’t seem like a cop-out, like “we just wanted a girl villain bc girls are bad.”

I am a little mad that when the main villain turns out to be a woman, it leaves only one woman in the principle cast of heroes. Not that Gwen can’t totally hold her own, but it would have been nice to have her dynamic feminine duo with Morgana (and their ridiculous gayness) for the rest of the series, rather than leaving the majority of the action up to the men. Plus, I think keeping Morgana around as a hero might have given Gwen more outlets to be involved in the main action as well, since these two are definitely a power couple.

Dramatically speaking I think it might have worked better, too. Again, I like the villain arc Morgana gets--it isn’t rushed and it’s well-thought-out. But I think it would have been even nicer to have them be two different characters. Maybe keep Nimueh around for a few extra seasons, and/or introduce someone else with the same powers Morgana ends up with. Or keep Morgause; she could even still be Morgana’s half-sister, but Morgana refuses to join her, adding another layer to the hero/villain dynamics. Her backstory could be similar, and we could see parts of it along the way as it intertwines with the rest of the plot.

But I would have loved to see Morgana stay in Camelot as one of the lead heroes. Early on she doesn’t seem to have any desire to gain the throne (and I always thought the whole “she’s-actually-Uther’s-biological-daughter” thing was a cop-out anyway), so I can totally see her finding herself in a supportive, advisor-type role to Arthur as he takes on more and more responsibility. Their sibling dynamic would provide a lot of genuine sweetness and sassy banter throughout. She could continue to provide valuable assistance during the adventures, using her words and knowledge and influence to help out, becoming wiser as the years go on and helping Arthur build a strong kingdom.

She could have continued her super-sweet relationship with Gwen, supporting her as she slowly becomes more important in the court, vouching for her despite her rank, and continuing to be incredibly gay.

I think it would have been really cool if she and Merlin connected early on about their magic and confided in each other. I would have loved to see the two of them struggling together as they harness their powers, and bonding over that; and Merlin for once being able to take on a mentor-type role where his contributions are actually acknowledged, as he helps Morgana through the early stages of her revelations. Plus, it would help both of them feel much less alone, which not only saves Morgana from the villain path, but also gives Merlin some of the attention and support that he needs and never effing gets.

I think it would be funny if Arthur’s impression that they’re flirting continued throughout the series as a running gag, especially as they’d be making excuses to spend more time together so they can help each other with their magic. They could even use it to their advantage at times to get him off their backs. (On that note, I can see Morgana concluding the series with no other love interest than Gwen, though it would also be funny if she continually received suitors that were more running gags or funny side-plots to other stories).

I can almost see it like this: instead of refusing to tell Morgana that he also has magic in 2x3 (“The Nightmare Begins”), Merlin actually does tell her, so instead of her going to the Druids and starting that path of conflict, she and Merlin become closer and her goals become more focused and she’s less scared, and that prevents her from going down the path of darkness.

As Morgana works to understand and control her powers, she could learn about its history and lore and the Old Religion and stuff and be able to help identify sorcery and mythical creatures when they come across them.

And her relationship with Mordred could add yet another layer to the hero/villain dynamic; she could take on a mentoring role for him when he joins the Knights, maybe even helping him out with his magic and trying to get him into her and Merlin’s little “magic circle.” Merlin’s suspicion of Mordred could cause some juicy personal conflict between him and Morgana, and Mordred’s inevitable betrayal would be devastating in a dramatically satisfying way, if that makes sense.

All in all, I do like villain Morgana and her whole villain arc; but I would have liked it even more if she’d stayed in Camelot as one of the heroes, keeping her place in the principle cast of characters and remaining an important part of their friend group/Disaster Bi Club.

anyway....those are my thoughts...idk if anyone on here even knows what I’m talking about lol but I wanted to get it out there; I usually do my TV show rants on Twitter but the character limit for posts prevents long stuff like this.

#this will likely be a short-lived obsession so opera fans have no fear #just some random thoughts I wanted to get out of my system #Merlin #The Adventures of Merlin #Morgana Pendragon #character analysis #tv show rants #bbc merlin

[lastoneout]

Comfort Food

Fandom: Persona 5

Rating: PG

Summary: 

Akechi has a food blog, Futaba thinks that's hilarious, Akira is a good friend, and Sojiro needs a drink.

Notes:

This was supposed to just be me projecting my issues on to Akechi because he's my emotional support bastard boi but somehow it turned into nearly 2500 words of tooth-rotting slice of life fluff. Whoops.

A03

Goro learned the hard way that hiding things from Futaba was impossible.

To be fair it wasn’t like he was trying to hide his food blog, he mentioned it in passing a few times and he knew that most of his followers were his fans, but he never really expected any of the Thieves to actually read it, let alone read it out loud, in front of him...while laughing at it.

“What are you, a high school girl?” Futaba said with a snicker after she finished reading his latest post aloud, “I’ve seen little girl’s diaries with more class.”

“Oh my god.” Akira choked out from beside Futaba behind Leblanc’s bar, desperately trying to muffle his laughs as Goro floundered.

He knew he shouldn’t care. The Thieves always poked fun at each other. ‘It’s what friends do,’ Akira had said. If anything he figured he should be grateful that Futaba considered him enough of a friend to playfully mock his hobby. But Goro was never good at regulating his inner emotions, and so as much as he tried to not let it get to him, it did.

Truthfully, he never meant to get into food. For the longest time, he considered it a pointless expense. In the various foster homes that he was tossed between food was almost a luxury. And to someone who often wondered where his next meal would come from it was hard to justify the cost of a fancy dinner when the same money could get him a month's worth of instant ramen and convenience store bento lunches.

But when he got into high school and wormed his way into the police force he suddenly was financially stable enough to justify luxury spending. Nijima-san was kind enough to pull some strings to get the agency to act as a guarantor so he could move out of the foster home and into a small apartment, and after he paid his bills and rent he was left staring at the remaining sum in his bank app, trying to wrap his head around how that money was his, and he could do whatever he wanted with it.

He tried to keep a level head and decided to go to a nearby department store to pick up things to furnish his new home, but on the way there he passed a diner and was stopped dead by the incredible smells drifting out the door. His stomach growled, and he found himself trying to remember the last time he had eaten something that hadn’t come wrapped in plastic and styrofoam.

His stomach growled again, and before he had time to think about it, knowing that if he did he would decide against it, he hurried into the restaurant. He was seated quickly, and despite feeling weirdly giddy and anxious he smiled at the kind waitress who took his order. The simple latte and plate of pancakes were probably the most delicious things he had ever tasted, and he couldn’t help how his eyes watered after the first bite, the food filling some empty part of himself he hadn’t even known existed.

Looking back on that day he’s grateful that he wasn’t famous yet, as no one cared to pay attention to the skinny teenager in the booth by the wall trying not to get tears in his dinner.

After that, he ate out at least once a week. He spent little on necessities, picking up most of the things he needed at the ¥100 store and buying used clothes, saving every extra bit that didn’t go into bills for food. Eventually, he started looking up new places to eat, and after finding a few food blogs he decided on a whim to start his own. It didn’t take off until after his big break, but he didn’t mind. The simple pictures and reviews he posted weren’t really for anyone else, and on days when he felt empty and angry, he would scroll back through them and feel a little bit better. Almost happy at the little niche he had carved out for himself.

Shortly after that Akechi’s entire life quickly became a delicate web of lies. He was a double, even triple agent, under so many layers of falsehoods even he struggled to keep it straight sometimes. If anyone ever bothered to break him down to his bare parts there really wasn’t much he actually did for himself. Every single facet of his life and personality had been carefully crafted to ensure he would be able to get the revenge he so desperately craved. He hardly ever did anything just for himself. Every interest he shared in interviews or mentioned around his ‘friends’ was for show, not something he honestly cared all that much about. It was annoying sometimes, having to pretend to care for things he felt apathetic towards, but it was necessary.

But food? Food stayed safe. It helped his Detective Prince facade once he got popular, after all the only thing teenage girls seemed to like more than cute boys was trendy food. And cute boys who love trendy food? That’s a check that writes itself. It made him look soft, approachable, and normal. So he indulged. Actually enjoying sharing the one part of himself that wasn’t fake.

Maybe that’s why Futaba’s mockery stung so much. He wouldn’t care if people made fun of his fake interests, but when it was the real him? It hurt.

He tried to laugh it off, blushing and begging her to stop. He insisted it’s just for his fans, he’s not really that immature or girly, it’s just for show! But each plea seemed to only make the situation worse, so he gave up and silently begged for her to get bored soon, his face an unnatural shade of red.

Akira, ever perceptive, seemed to notice something change in his demeanor, and without a second thought, the teen reached forward and plucked Futaba's phone right out of her hands.

"Hey!" She shouted, grabbing for it.

"Alright, alright, that's enough." He chided, holding the phone just out of Futaba's reach, "We all have our hobbies. But since we're in a sharing mood how about I tell Akechi-kun all about your Featherman shipping blog?"

A chill came over the room. "You wouldn't dare."

"Oh, I would." He turned to Goro with a devilish smirk, "See she loves the red and blue rangers together-"

"Akira I'll end you!" Futaba yelled, diving forward and attempting to tackle him. Akira, however, was taller, and easily deflected her blows.

"She was telling me about this doujinshi she read the other day-"

"I'll spread rumors about you on websites you've never even heard of!"

"It was so romantic-"

"I'll leak your bank info on the dark web!”

"It's by her favorite author too, she buys everything they release-"

"I'll destroy you with malware, you won't be able to BREATHE near a circuit board without getting a virus!"

"Tell me, Akechi-kun, do you know what smut is?"

"AKIRA!!!" Futaba shrieked, and it was quickly followed by the sound of clanging pots and Sojiro swearing loudly from the kitchen.

“Would you two cut it out?” He shouted, poking his head around the corner.

“Sorry Boss, just giving Futaba a lesson on being a good friend,” Akira replied with an apologetic smile.

“Well next time can you do it outside? You’re lucky I don’t have any customers in here right now.”

“You never have any customers...” Futaba mumbled.

“I heard that. And Futaba, I thought I asked you to tie up your hair when you’re behind the counter.”

“On it...” She grumbled, pulling her hair back into a lazy bun with the scrunchie on her wrist.

“We’ll keep the noise and health code violations to a minimum, Boss,” Akira said, shooting a lazy salute Sojiro’s way. The older man eyed them for another second before sighing and mumbling something about herding cats as he turned back to the curry.

With the situation defused, Akira and Futaba stared at each other, having a silent yet very animated conversation, but eventually, Akira seemed to win and Futaba sighed heavily, "Okay, okay,” She turned to Goro and gave him a bow, “I'm sorry for making fun of your blog Akechi-kun."

Goro hardly knew what to make of the display, let alone her apology, but it made him feel a bit better, so he relaxed and gave her a genuine smile, “It’s alright, Futaba-chan, I forgive you.”

“Can I have my phone back now, please?”

“You may,” Akira replied amicably, handing the hostage technology back to Futaba.

She smiled triumphantly before another dark look crossed her face. She eyed Goro, suspiciously, before blushing and tapping her fingers together “A-and Akechi-kun...you won’t tell anyone else about the...shipping thing, right?”

“To be honest...I’m not sure I fully understand what you were talking about,” He replied, “But your secret is safe with me.”

“I’m so proud of both of you,” Akira said with a fake teary-eyed sniff, “My two little introverts, making friends.”

Goro and Futaba broke out in protests, but a quick glare from Sojiro shut them both up.

“Wow, you’ve really got that ‘disappointed dad’ look down, Sojiro.” Akira quipped.

“Don’t you have anything better to do than raise hell in my cafe?”

“As much as it breaks my heart, yes.” Akira said, untying his apron and heading around the counter, “I’ve got a date with a pile of dirty dishes in Shinjuku.”

“You’re not taking Morgana?” Futaba asked as he grabbed his bag and jacket.

“Nah, he hates The Crossroads, says the alcohol smell makes his nose itch. When he wakes up from his nap just let him know where I went.”

“Roger that.”

“Thanks,” He said, “See you guys later! Oh, and try not to get into too much trouble while I’m away.”

Futaba rolled her eyes dramatically, and Goro, still feeling a bit lost, simply shrugged.

“Akira, text me when you get there! You know I don’t like you going to that part of town so late.” Sojiro called, and Goro had to suppress a smirk. Akira had faced down far worse threats than the red light district at night. But it must be nice, he figured, to have someone worry about you.

“Got it!” Akira replied, the bell jingling as the door closed behind him.

Futaba seemed to deflate in his absence, looking anxious. She had explained once that Akira was something called a ‘key item’ that gave her ‘a plus ten confidence boost’, and he assumed that just meant she was shy when he wasn’t around. Goro turned back to his discarded coffee, grimacing a bit when a sip revealed it to be lukewarm.

“Uh, I can make you another cup...it’s my fault that one went cold anyway.” She said, clearly trying to make things up to him, “Sojiro’s been teaching me. It probably won’t be as good as his though. I’m still totally stuck on tutorial mode.”

“Oh, um, that would be lovely.” He replied, “Thank you.”

She started the process, carefully measuring grounds as the kettle heated, “You know, you should write about Leblanc on your blog. You like the food here, right?”

“I-”

“Absolutely not.” Sojiro interrupted, joining Futaba behind the bar to supervise the brewing.

“But Sojirooo! Akechi-kun is popular, you might actually get some business for once!”

“I don’t want that kind of business. Sorry Akechi-kun, but hundreds of fangirls in here every day ordering fancy drinks and asking when their beloved Detective Prince is coming back? I can feel my blood pressure skyrocketing just thinking about it.” He replied with a chuckle, “A man my age can only handle so many loud teenagers at once, and Akira’s band of hooligans already pushes the limit.”

“Don’t worry, Saku...uh, sorry, Boss. I understand.” Goro clarified, “There have actually been several cases of popular food writers unwittingly causing small restaurants to close due to their articles increasing interest to an unmanageable level. I wouldn’t dream of doing that to Leblanc.”

“Glad we’re on the same page then.”

Futaba finished making the coffee, grinning when Sojiro complimented her technique. She eagerly pushed a fresh cup to him, practically vibrating while she watched him take a sip. It was true that it wasn’t as amazing as her father’s, but it was still good and had its own charm.

“You did well.” He said, and he couldn’t help chuckle when she broke out in a wide smile, a warm feeling blossoming in his chest at the sight.

“Yes! I leveled up! Plus five coffee making exp!”

“We’ll make a barista of you yet.” Sojiro said fondly, “Now, it’s getting late. Akechi-kun, do you have dinner plans? I’ve got enough curry back here to feed an army, you’re welcome to stay.”

“I wouldn’t want to impose...”

“Just say yes.” Futaba whispered to him with a smirk, “Sojiro put all of his stat points into feeding wayward teens.”

“Then...yes, I’d be honored.” Akechi said, too confused to be offended by being called ‘wayward’.

“The honor is ours,” Futaba replied solemnly, giving an overly formal bow before breaking out laughing.

Sojiro wasted no time serving up three plates of curry, chatting idly with Futaba as she went to flip the open sign to closed. The two of them managed to herd Goro into a booth just as Morgana trotted downstairs, asking about Akira and demanding food. Futaba poked the poor not-cat a few times while Sojiro retrieved Morgana’s food bowl and popped open a fresh can of cat food.

“Sorry,” Sojiro said, pulling up a chair and making room on the table for Morgana’s dish, “He throws a tantrum if he doesn’t get to eat with us.”

“I do not!” Morgana shouted indignantly, “I’m just too civilized to eat on the floor.”

“Chatty cat,” Sojiro replied, giving Morgana a few chin scritches.

“Morgana is family,” Futaba said sagely, “And a family that eats together, stays together.”

‘...Family, huh...’ Goro thought to himself.

“What’s up Akechi-kun?” Futaba asked, and he blushed lightly as he realized he was staring off into space.

“Oh, I’m sorry, it’s nothing,” He deflected, “The food looks delicious, Boss. Thank you.”

“Thank you for the food!” Futaba yelled before digging into her plate, and the rest of them quickly followed suit.

As the four of them shared the meal, Goro felt the warm feeling from before grow and spread through his chest. Futaba was using her fork to flick small bits of meat at Morgana despite Sojiro’s half-hearted complaints, cheering as Morgana somehow managed to catch every single one. The smell of curry and coffee and cat food mingled in the air with laughter and shouts, giving the whole room a feeling not unlike a comforting hug.

Goro allowed himself a small smile, sure that the only reason he felt so happy was the food.

#persona #persona 5 #akechi goro #futaba sakura #akira kusuru #no persona 5R spoilers #loo writes #please read my trash #long post #just in case the readmore doesn't work #Me And Mine #Text

[swanqueeneverafter]

Sins of the Past Pt.19

Somewhere In The Forest. (After travelling through the night and getting completely lost, Richard decides to lighten Henry’s mood.) Richard: “Psst! Psst! Psst! Henry. Henry! Henry, wake up. (Tapping his chest while leaning over him:) H-Henry! Wake up! I have incredible news!” Henry: “Ugh! Is that news that you've misplaced your toothbrush?” Richard: (Laughs:) “Zinger! No. No, you know how we're lost and if we keep heading into the land of the Giants we’re liable to be trampled to death?” Henry: (Sighs:) “Yes, we discussed it last night in great detail.” Richard: “Well, I have someone here who wants to lay all your fears to rest.” Henry: (Yawns:) “All right, but it better not be that pathetic excuse for a dragon.” Richard: (Turns holding said dragon in his hands:) “Can you believe it? Imagine how our foes will run in terror! What do you think?” Henry: “I think you're a complete idiot. (Throws off his blanket, stands and begins to walk away:) You do realize that I’m further away from joining up with Ella than I was when I started?” Richard: “Well... Hey, where you going?” Henry: “To find Ella... Without you.” Richard: “What? Why?” Henry: “Because I am done. I am done cleaning up your mess. I am done telling you that it's not your fault, because... news flash, Richard... it is your fault. I'm done with your weakness, with your whining, but most of all, I am done with you!” Richard: “Okay. I admit, I'm on a bit of an unlucky streak, but I am destined for great things. You'll see.” Henry: “You have about as much chance of great things as that lizard does of breathing fire.” Richard: “It's a dragon, and it can breathe fire. Show him, Tad Cooper! (Lifts him up:) Show him. Come on. Well clearly you make him nervous.” Henry: “The perfect pair... A dragon that isn't a dragon... And a king that isn't a king.” (Henry walks away.) Richard: “Well, I am done with you, too!”

Storybrooke. Town Line. (While Emma and Regina put up a protection spell at the town line, David concludes his phone call.) David: "That was Kristoff. He, Anna and Elsa are just leaving with a small delegation for Camelot." Mulan: "I understand how Elsa is feeling, but walking into Camelot without a plan is madness."

Ruby: "Elsa has a lot of experience with not showing her feelings. Her plan is to enter Camelot gracefully in order to get Lily and Maleficent out, gracefully." Regina: "That will never work. Are we forgetting about when Elsa first came to Storybrooke? She ended up freezing half the town because she couldn't keep her emotions in check. The sight of Lily being held behind bars is likely to cause Elsa to spiral out of control and send Camelot into a new ice age." Emma: (Considers:) "That might help Morgana and Morgause cool off for awhile." Regina: (Chuckles:) "That was terrible." Emma: (Smiles:) "I know." David: (Agitated:) "You know what, I don't think you realise the gravity of the situation here.” Snow White: “David...” David: “The Queen of Camelot has put a bounty on my daughter's head. Not only that, but it appears that she's kidnapped Maleficent and Lily in an attempt to persuade Emma to turn herself in. So you’ll excuse me if I don't happen to think that this is a laughing matter." Regina: "And you think I do? You think I enjoy the fact my wife is being hunted? Or that there's some rogue knight with magical powers out there waiting to strike and I have no way of finding him? It's been tearing me up since I first heard about the bounty in Neverland. So don't you dare lecture me on how I should feel when you're the one who let Mordred go on two separate occasions!" Emma: "All right, look, the protection spell is up so that means no one is coming in or out of Storybrooke. If we want to catch this Mordred guy, we're going to have to work together. Now I know Hook and Rumple are out looking east and Ruby and Mulan have volunteered to start searching west, which leaves the town and suburban areas. So I say we all head back to town and try to live our lives as best we can for now." Regina: "Agreed." (They break up. Mulan and Ruby heading to the woods while Emma and Regina walk back to Emma's bug. Now alone, Snow pulls David aside to talk.) Snow White: "David, you have got to calm down. You can't go having shouting matches with Regina every five minutes." David: (Sighs:) "I know, but I just feel like this time things might not turn out the way we hope. No matter what she says, Morgana is out for blood. If she has any chance of winning over her people, she has to look strong. And I'm terrified of what that'll mean for Emma." Snow White: "We won't let that happen." David: (Nods:) “I know we’ll try, and I will fight with my very last breath to prevent anything from happening to my daughter. But I gotta wonder how many more chances we have left until our luck runs out."

Wonderland. (Ella and Lizard walk together down the winding road.) Ella: "You're not helping me find Will for repayment of a financial debt, are you?” Lizard: (Stops walking and removes her hat. Shrugging:) “I was on the streets. He took me in, gave me a place to sleep. Taught me everything I know.” Ella: “Well, sorry to hear that.” Lizard: (Laughs:) “Come on, I know he can be difficult, but his heart's in the right place.” Ella: “Sounds like you two were close friends. Unless wait, were you two...” Lizard: “No. Uh, no. I mean... that would never... Will and I we just ran together. You know, stealing. Sometimes for the Caterpillar, and sometimes just for fun.” Ella: “You'd rob people for fun?” Lizard: “Will kind of went through a dark period after the whole Alice in the tower thing. So how do you know Will?” Ella: “Oh, he’s helping me find my mother.” Lizard: “Your mother?” Ella: “Yes, she fled to Wonderland a long time ago. Given his experiences here I thought Will would be the perfect guide but, well, we’ve had some interesting diversions along the way.” Lizard: “Speaking of diversions, we might not know where Will is right now, but if you’re interested, I might know someone who could help you find your mom?” Ella: “Who?” Lizard: “Well, she’s sort of an Oracle. She uses these crystals and... (At Ella’s sceptical look:) yeah I know, but it could be worth a shot?” Ella: (Considers:) “How far from here is this Oracle, because Will did say we’d meet back up at Tulgey Woods?” Lizard: “Oh, well that’s perfect, it’s right on the way. So, what do you say?” Ella: “All right, you’re on.” Storybrooke. Zelena's Farmhouse. (While Zelena dotes on Maria, Regina and Emma smile at each other.) Emma: "Thanks for looking after her, Zelena. We kinda needed our hands free while putting the protection spell around the entire town." Zelena: (Replying to Emma, but speaking to Maria:) "Oh we didn't mind at all now, did we? No, we didn't." (Emma and Regina exchange looks, Emma motions towards the baby and Regina shakes her head.) Emma: (Sighs, awkwardly:) "So, um, thanks again and we'll just take her and be out of your hair." Zelena: (Finally looking up:) "Oh, so soon? It seems I hardly get to see my niece much anymore." Regina: "Well we just figured with you helping Robin out at the bar and any alone time you wish to spend with Robin Hood..." Emma: "We didn't want to impose." Zelena: "It's no trouble at all. I can take her all day if you'd like?" Emma: "Well..." Zelena: "It's just so hard sometimes, thinking about all those years I missed out on with Robin. Between Gothel's aging spell and... that unfortunate incident with some enchanted onion rings... I feel as though my time spent with Maria gives me at least a glimpse at what those precious years of motherhood could have been like." (Running her tongue across her lips to stifle a smile, Regina looks up at Emma, who realises she's being played.) Emma: "I... if you think it wouldn't be too much trouble..." Zelena: (Her attention already focused on Maria:) "I'll have her back before dark." (Under the distinct impression that they've just been dismissed, Emma and Regina make their farewells and leave the farmhouse.) Sheriff's Station. (Sitting with his feet up on one of the desks, Rumplestiltskin watches as Hook paces angrily up and down.) Rumplestiltskin: "You'll wear a hole in the floor, you know." Hook: "That's the problem! I don't know anything. I don't know if my wife and daughter are alive or dead!" Rumplestiltskin: "I understand how you're feeling. When the Jabberwocky took Belle and Gideon from me, it was all I could do not to lose my mind. But we must be patient." Hook: "Patience is not something I'm used to. Action has always been my answer." Rumplestiltskin: "Well it can't be now. At least not yet. Despite the fact that we would be crushed if we attempted to go up against Camelot's army, we don't know what capabilities Morgana and Morgause have."

Hook: "Emma and Regina can tackle any magical force that comes their way." Rumplestiltskin: "Not necessarily. Don't get me wrong, their combined magic is stronger than any I've encountered. It is far more powerful than even the Darkness could've hoped to be. But these two women, they have honed their magical craft under the Old Religion." Hook: "So?" Rumplestiltskin: "There is a reason I stayed away from Camelot all those years. The Old Religion encapsulates the entire history of magic, light and dark. It goes back even further than Merlin's time. Without truly knowing what we'd be up against, I'm afraid caution is the only correct course of action we have available to us right now." Walking Through The Forest. (Still angry about his fight with Henry, Richard trudges through the forest talking to his pet dragon.) Richard: "You can't do anything right, Richard. Everything's a disaster, Richard. You've ruined my life, Richard. That's not a real dragon, Richard. Well, you know what? Henry may not believe in you, but I do. I super believe in you, Tad Cooper. ♪ Hey, little fella, I know just what you're thinkin' ♪ ♪ Nobody gets you or sees what you could be ♪ (He walks through a field to the bewilderment of several sheep:) ♪ But pluck up your courage and turn that frown up ♪ ♪ Soon we will eat this entire town up ♪ ♪ Then they'll believe in my dragon pal and me ♪ (Richard and Tad Cooper now sitting upon a tree swing:) ♪ That's right, little fella ♪ ♪ We'll leave those doubters blinkin' ♪ ♪ We're gonna show 'em a thing or two or three ♪ (Richard now spinning in circles as he sings:) ♪ Imagine the wonder that we'll inspire ♪ ♪ When we are setting their heads on fire ♪ ♪ Then we'll be even, my dragon pal and me ♪ (Crossing a bridge, letting the dragon feel the wind blow through its... scales:) ♪ We'll rise up ♪ ♪ And open their eyes up ♪ ♪ We'll light the skies up ♪ (Back on the tree swing:) ♪ And rain destruction and death on their wives and kids ♪ (Mimicking an attack on a village:) Raar! Raar! Aah! ♪ So, when, little fella, you feel your heart is sinkin' ♪ ♪ Just you remember, one day, we'll make them see ♪ ♪ And when they are watching, completely flipped out ♪ ♪ As their intestines are being ripped out ♪ ♪ They'll all look up to us, then I guarantee ♪ (More spinning in a field:) ♪ Then they'll believe in my dragon pal and me ♪ ♪ Doo-doo, doo-doo, doo doo doo doo ♪ ♪ Then they'll believe in me ♪ ♪ They'll believe in...Me ♪ (Richard collapses contentedly onto the ground, Tad Cooper clutched against his chest, when a group of men surround him with clubs:) I must warn you... I have a dragon.”

Storybrooke. Goldilocks' Gym. (Rather than sit and do nothing, Regina and Emma decide to work up a sweat at the local gymnasium. Having sparred with Gabrielle and outrun Tinker Bell on the treadmill, Emma searches for her wife. Wandering to the back of the gym where the private rooms are located, Emma glances through each window before finally finding Regina. Entering the room, she finds the brunette doing stretches while wearing a blue leotard.) Regina: (Smiling over her shoulder:) "Good workout, dear?" Emma: (Taking a seat on the floor, wincing:) "I'm definitely gonna feel it tomorrow. (Watches as Regina continues stretching:) So this is what you've been doing, warming up?" Regina: (Chuckles:) "There's slightly more to it than that. I haven't done these kind of stretches in years." Emma: (Leaning back on her hands:) "Well don't let me stop you, I'm loving the view." (Wordlessly, Regina turns to her and, placing her hands beneath her chin in an innocent pose, begins to sink to the floor. When her elbows finally touch the ground, Regina enjoys the expression on Emma's face.) Regina: "I can't tell what's wider, your eyes or my legs." Xena: (Standing in the doorway:) "That's not so hard." Regina: (Lifting her eyebrow:) "Oh really? (Swings her leg beneath her and somehow manages to spin around into a standing position:) Care to try it?" Gabrielle: (Arriving, towel in hand:) "Xena, don't you dare." Xena: (Confidently:) "I've got this, Gabrielle." Gabrielle: "No, Xena. Don't-" (But before anyone can stop her, Xena lets out a yell, flips in midair into a somersault and lands, split legged on the floor. Emma places her hands over her ears at the thudding sound, Gabrielle covers her eyes, unable to watch and Regina covers her mouth, to stifle her snigger of laughter. With her eyes now wider than Emma's were a moment ago, Xena remains in her prone position, incapable of movement, mouth agape. After a brief moment of uncertainty, the three spectators converge upon Xena, each helping the famed warrior princess up from the floor.) Forest. (While looking at a map, Henry walks through the forest and trips over something, landing in the dirt.) Andre: (His voice echoing through the woods:) “Who goes there?” Henry: (Staring up at the men stood at the top of a steep hill:) “Oh, goodness. Giants.” Andre: “State your business, wee man.” Henry: “I'm Henry. I’m completely lost and need to find my fiancee. (They stare down at him, unmoved by his plight:) You know, I'm told your people are among the fiercest warriors in the land.” Andre: “Among? We are Giants, with fists the size of pumpkins.” Henry: “Pumpkins, good.” Andre: “And heads so big, they blot out the sun.” Henry: “Perfect.” Andre: “We love a good war. Don't we, fellas?” Other Giants: “Yeah!” Andre: “Hush! Titan, Colossus, pull him out of there!” (A giant reaches down and offers his hand, pulling Henry out of the mud.)

Henry: “This is great. Thank you so much. Hi. Henry. I'm... Hello. (He looks around, now towering over the giants:) I'm so sorry. Aren't you supposed to be...Taller? I mean, not to be rude, but you did say that your heads blocked out the sun.” Andre: “Yes, they do block out the sun. You've got to catch it at the right angle. Sorry. Can I, uh, just... Here? Uh...There. Complete darkness.” Henry: “Mm. Are you sure that you're giants?” Andre: “Of course we are giants. Just very short giants is all.” Titan: “Fee fie fo fum.” Andre: “Yeah. Well said, Titan. We will join you on your quest... On one condition.” Henry: “I’m quite certain I didn’t ask, but yeah. Go on.” Andre: “You must prove your loyalty by helping us fight our most hated enemy... The Dwarves!” Giants: “Yeah!” Titan: “Stinkin', tiny, awful, high-pitched-voiced Dwarves.” Andre: “Right again, Titan. Tonight, we meet to set the rules of battle, and tomorrow, we fight. So, what do you say? It shouldn't take long. They're only very small. (The giants laugh:) Stop laughing!” Henry: (Takes a breath:) “Yeah. Why not? I'm desperate. Let's do this.” (The giants all cheer.) Camelot. Dining Room. (After a formal greeting between the two Queens, witnessed by courtiers and common people alike, Morgana and Elsa share dinner together alone.) Morgana: "I can't tell you how much it means to me to have Arendelle's support in this troublesome time." Elsa: "Of course. Camelot is a treasured ally." Morgana: "Even so, I realise Guinevere's abdication must have come as a shock?" Elsa: "From my conversations with her, I never had the impression that Guinevere truly embraced her position as queen. She, much like myself, was thrust into the role after the tragic death of a loved one. For me, my parents, for Guinevere, her husband. Your brother." Morgana: "Indeed, but you seem well suited to the role now." Elsa: (Smiles:) "I have my moments." Morgana: "Don't we all. Thank you, by the way. For referring to my brother's death as tragic. Others I've spoken to remember him as a cold and callous ruler." Elsa: "I couldn't comment, we never met." Morgana: "Others say his death was justified, and that Emma Swan was acting in self defense." Elsa: "Again, I couldn't possibly-" Morgana: "You are friends with Emma, are you not?" Elsa: "Yes, I-" Morgana: "Close friends, would you say?" Elsa: "For a time, we were very close, yes." Morgana: "Was that before or after she became the Dark One and killed my brother?" Elsa: "I don't know what you're trying to imply but-" Morgana: "I'm merely asking if you are still friends with the woman who killed this nation's King and refuses to stand trial for that crime under Camelot law." Elsa: "From what I understand, your majesty, Arthur not only threatened Emma directly, but also her family. (Sitting a little higher in her seat:) And frankly, if you want my honest opinion, yes, your brother did deserve exactly what he got. If it had been me, I might've done the exact same thing." Morgana: (Smiles:) "There now. That wasn't so hard, was it?" Elsa: "Excuse me?" Morgana: (Chuckles:) "The one thing I remember vividly from my time in Uther's court is having keep up the pretense of propriety. It was always exhausting and I hated it. We are alone, Elsa. You don’t have to worry about airs and graces with me. I've hated my so-called brother for years for what he did to me. Of course I do not mourn his loss, but you must understand, for me to be truly cemented as Queen in the eyes of the people, his death must be avenged. Now, please tell me why you are really here?" Elsa: (Taken aback by Morgana's mercurial nature:) "I..." Morgana: "Oh come now, I know you didn't just come here to welcome Camelot's queen." Elsa: (Conjures Lily's sweater into her hand:) "My lover is missing. I used a locator spell to find her and the trail brought me to Camelot." Morgana: (Sitting back in her chair, fingers pressed together:) "I see." Elsa: "I have reason to believe that Lily and her mother Maleficent may be imprisoned here in the castle." Morgana: "Maleficent? Her powers are legendary. And you believe me capable of capturing both her and her daughter and locking them away in my dungeons?" Elsa: "Well...I..." Morgana: (Leaning forward:) "I'm not sure if you're aware, but we've had a mass breakout from our dungeons just very recently. Of those who escaped, none of them possessed any trace of magical ability. (Chuckles:) I'm sorry, but to think that I would be brazen enough to house you, your sister and brother-in-law whilst keeping your lover and the mighty Maleficent locked away in my dungeons is ludicrous." Elsa: "So you deny it?" Morgana: (Still smiling:) "Wholeheartedly. In fact, why don't I accompany you to the dungeons so you may see for yourself? (She stands, tossing down her napkin:) Come, I could do with a walk before tackling dessert."

Storybrooke. Swan-Mills House. Night. (With Maria tucked up in bed, Regina sits at the piano. Practicing a few chords, Regina doesn't see Emma as she enters the room. Smiling when Emma rubs her shoulders, Regina leans back against her.) Regina: "Ready to play?" Emma: "You have no idea." (Walking to stand beside the piano, Emma's nakedness is revealed for the first time. The moonlight pouring in through the windows highlighting every breathtaking curve of her body.) Regina: "So you weren't serious about letting me teach you then?" Emma: (Smiles, perching herself against the piano:) "Oh, I thought we might teach each other. You know it's always more fun when we both learn a thing or two." (Slowly rising from her seat, Regina seizes Emma's lips with her own. The keys of the piano playing a cacophony of notes as Emma's body is pressed up against them.) Regina: (Smiling against Emma's lips:) "I think you'll be glad to know, I've already warmed up my fingers." Wonderland. (Lizard and Ella stand at the entrance to the Oracle's garden. The Oracle herself can be seen a short distance away, her back to them.) Lizard: "Are you sure you want to do this?” Ella: “If you were granted the same opportunity, would you not want to meet your mother again?” (Walking further into the garden, Ella nervously approaches the Oracle while Lizard stays behind, watching.) Oracle: “Welcome, Ella.” Ella: “That’s... (Glances back at Lizard then stares at the Oracle:) How did you know my name?” (The Oracle turns to face her, revealing herself to be...) Morgause: “I’ve been waiting for you. I hold the answer to the question that burns inside you. I know what happened to your mother, Ella.”

#Sq #swan queen #swanqueen

[im-the-king-of-the-ocean]

FANFIC TROPE MASH-UP. WARSTAFF, 21 + 97. >=D (even better if one of them is RESPONSIBLE for the dystopian future in the first place)

(21) Dystopian AU + (97) Time Travel 

Okay, but a thought:

What if they’re mutually responsible?

..and it’s going beneath a cut because it got looong

Toby and Claire decide it isn’t fair that Jim has to lose his teenage years to being the Trollhunter, and then they figure out a way to travel back in time to prevent him from becoming the Trollhunter in the first place.

Two key things here: 1) Jim never told them about the exact events of Unbecoming 2) Toby and Claire retain their memories, so they still know about the Killahead Bridge, know they need to stop the changelings, Bular, etc.

Thus, Jim gets to have an oblivious teenagerhood, with one tiny hiccup; he assumes his best friend has gotten together with his long time crush (bc of how much time Toby and Claire are now spending together).  Jim feels betrayed and like Toby’s gone behind his back.  Jim stops talking to both of them. It hurts Toby and Claire, but they accept the sacrifice of their relationships with Jim as a necessary loss for his overall wellbeing and mental health.

Anyways, things progress like Unbecoming.  Despite Claire and Toby’s covert efforts from the shadows, Draal the Trollhunter is tricked into opening the Killahead Bridge.  He is then killed by a reunited Bular and Gunmar.

Claire and Toby make it to Trollmarket, but Blinky and Arrrgh!!! think they’re changelings who’re helping with the invasion and attack them.  They barely make it out of there.  Toby is especially hurt that his wingman/one of his closest friends would literally try to kill him, even though they never met before in this time line.

Right outside of Trollmarket, they get a call from a distraught Jim, who’s begging them to go to the hospital because he’s scared for his mom.  Jim was on his way there on his bike, but he was cornered by Gumm-Gumms.  Jim managed to get away, but he thinks his leg is broken.  Before he can tell Toby and Claire where he is, the line goes dead.

Jim survives, but only because he’s found by Strickler, who despite his alliance with Gunmar, still feels pity for his once-favored student.  Strickler uses dark magics to save Jim’s life and turns him into something closer to the Deep!Jim rather than troll!Jim.  Then, since Jim’s indebted to Strickler for his life, he has no alternative but to join that side as a new, dark champion.

(Because they don’t have the close relationship with Strickler that Jim did, neither Claire nor Toby considered going to Strickler (especially bc they know he’s a changeling).  Also, because the Trollhunter isn’t human, Strickler never realized there could have been a better alternative and always stayed completely evil).

Arcadia is destroyed.  While the Gumm-Gumms celebrate their first victory, the survivors (including the Nunezes, Nana Domzalski, Barbara, Blinky, and Arrrgh!!!) gather.

Previously, while they were still operating from the shadows, Claire and Toby acquired their weapons (the shadow staff and warhammer respectively).  To get everyone out of there to safety, Claire opens a massive portal.  She manages to get everyone, but Barbara, through.

Barbara refused to leave Jim behind and snuck off to find him while everyone else was distracted.  She’s never seen again.

Like in the show, creating the giant portal caused Claire to become corrupted and possessed by Morgana.  However, this time, she makes a deal with Morgana.  She’ll willingly do whatever the sorceress wants so long as Morgana protects her family and the other survivors.  Morgana agrees.  Claire becomes the Pale Lady’s champion in a similar fashion to how Angor Rot was.

Toby goes off on his own to try and find something powerful enough to break the connection between Claire and Morgana, as well as save the world.  He eventually finds the Staff of Avalon, but doesn’t wake Merlin.  He’s distrustful of ancient magical beings.  He saw what happened to Claire, and to Jim.  Toby thinks he’s the world’s last hope and he cannot fall like they did.

While he’s away, Morgana has Claire build an army to lead into war against Gunmar.  The battles are vicious and brutal.  Claire’s side eventually wins, but only to find Morgana has no interest of letting any of them go.  She just wanted to be the one in charge.

Toby hears about all this in passing (he’s unaware that Morgana’s General is Claire specifically - all he knows is that Morgana’s forces are led by a general that must be stopped at all costs).  Using the Staff of Avalon, he steals Merlin’s magic (he didn’t know that’s what he’s done, all he knows is that the Staff is giving him massive power and he’ll take whatever he can get).

Toby then gathers an army of trolls and humans and leads them to battle against Morgana’s forces.

Morgana orders Claire to retaliate in kind.

Neither Toby nor Claire realize they’re fighting each other until they come face to face in the middle of the battlefield.

#trollhunters #warstaff #claire nunez #toby domzalski #character death tw #infographicphenomenon

[tunafishprincess]

Fallen Too Far

Chapter One: Sixteen

(Warning, this story ultimately goes into Mature. Tags will be listed on every chapter. The fic is completed on fanfic.net and AO3.)

Next. 

He is sixteen when he notices it.

The changes are gradual. Falling asleep in classes, not doing her homework on time, but those are to be expected when you spend your nights preparing for Gunmar and his army. Even Jim struggles to keep his school life and Trollhunter life separate.

When she begins to forget things, however, he starts to worry.

At first, it is only the small things, like what they had for dinner the night before, or when their next Spanish test is. Later, he starts mixing up which troll is which, or not remembering her best friends’ names.

Every time she uses the Skathe-Hrün she changes, bit by bit. The black veins around her eyes take longer and longer to disappear.

He should have paid more attention.

Jim chalks it up to stress when her personality begins to switch from hot to cold without warning.

Mood swings, Toby says, you know how girls are.

He is a foolish and naïve boy back hen; he still believes he can save everyone.

It is when she murders Bagdwella with the staff and disappears that he should have given up.

He doesn’t.

Toby, Blinky, and AAARRRGGHH!!! try to be there for him, try to comfort him. It’s no use. The remaining Trollmarket trolls want vengeance; he just wants his girlfriend back.

Still relying on the hope that he can bring her back, he leaves his friends, believing that it will only take a while before he’s back with Claire, safe and sound. How stupid of him to think so. He followed the same kind of reasoning in the Darklands and look where that led him?

History repeats itself as they say. He doesn’t tell his mom and friends goodbye. It is one of his greatest regrets.

It takes days, weeks to find her, but when he does, he almost doesn’t recognize her.

The black veins around her eyes are now visible and prominent, making her skin look translucent. Her hair is tied up in a tight bun, though a few ringlets have fallen out, framing her gorgeous face. The expression on her face is not a welcome one.

Even as a monster, she is beautiful.

They fight; he tries to talk to her, but she mocks hi, her words as painful as her magic. Again and again he returns to that cave, begging for her to return. It is a dance, almost—he enters her domain, she strikes at him and he avoids. Over and over, until both are left gasping for air.

It is as if his words are to no avail; nothing he says reaches her.

Regardless, Jim never hits her back. Claire is his girlfriend. Hope is still on his side.

This is long before her first followers arrive, before he understands the truth about the girl he loves.

It is only when the possessed Draal comes, knocking her to the ground, that he truly lets go. It all happens so quickly, even she is surprised at the blue troll’s sudden appearance. Seeing her there, blood running down her temple, makes something in him crack. Perhaps it is stress, perhaps it is anger—either way, he unleashes hell on his former friend, the damn that holds back his emotions springing free.

The battle is intense; the longest he’s ever fought thus far.

But he is the Trollhunter. He still hesitates to make the final blow. It is only when his old friend gives him no other option except death that he sinks the blade into the troll’s heart.

It is traumatic. He imagines Kanjigar screaming in anguish in the back of his mind.

Jim wins and loses at the same time. It is the first of many.

Hot, wet tears stream down his face at the end. He vomits next to his friend’s mangled body. Draal didn’t deserve to go out like this. None of his words got to the troll. He was too far gone for Jim to save. These are the words he tells himself.

They don’t stem the guilt however. It hurts like a knife to his heart. Jim has kiled one of his friends. What would Toby, AAARRRGGHH!!! and Blinky think of him now?

He blames Gunmar (but secretly, he blames himself).

Claire calls for him meekly, looking at him with those eyes—the kind of eyes any man would get sucked into. He is at her side in seconds, searching for injuries.

“Oh Jim,” she says, and he cries harder, because it’s her, it’s really her. Brown and clear, like the day he first met her.

Jim strokes her cheek, “Claire.”

And then she’s gone, snuffed out by cold, calculating purple.

“You saved me.” There is wonder in her tone. It is not Claire who is speaking.

“I saved Claire,” he corrects her.

He can almost hear the gears turning in her head, face contemplative.

“Gunmar and I are in a disagreement of sorts,” she says. “He’ll come for me again, with more assassins next time. My children have yet to appear and I—”

“Give me back Claire,” he interrupts.

“You dare—”

“Please,” he begs, voice low. “I-I love her.”

The words slip out on their own accord.

Her eyes widen a fraction, but that is the only reaction he receives at his declaration.

“Then prove it,” she demands, pushing herself up and away, blending back into the darkness from which she came.

And he tries.

It is lonely—almost suffocating really. Days go by before another of Gunmar’s men comes and he is forced to kill that one as well. On the positive side, it doesn’t bother him as much as killing Draal did; it is still unpleasant and distressing to do though. His stomach curdles, however he resists throwing up.

Around this time her people arrive.

He thinks them human until they change in front of her, bent down on one knee and pledging their loyalty in Trollspeak. Changelings. He doesn’t recognize any of them but they certainly know him.

Thankfully, her followers ignore him, too focused on their tasks. It is, in some ways, a relief. He does not want to fight them too. Claire, or the person in Claire’s body—he can never be too sure—merely watches him. An improvement from before, he tells himself.

Boredom grips him during the day, so he trains in the woodlands nearby, never leaving for more than a few hours’ time to find food and drink to sustain himself.

Once, he leaves his phone in his backpack near the river to bath. Both are gone when he returns. He searches for them for days, weeks even. How else is he going to contact his friends and family?

In the end, he gives up on ever finding either again. It doesn’t matter, he reasons. Once Claire is returned to her former self they can go home.

Speaking of, his girlfriend barely spares him a moment’s time to talk and usually it is only in response to his questions; it agonizes him.

Jim misses home, his mom, his best friend. He misses AAARRRGGHH!!!’s gentle smiles and Blinky’s lectures. He contemplates giving up, to return home, but his desire to save her always wins out. It is in his nature to never give up on his loved ones.

It is his greatest strength.

And later, his worst weakness.

The attacks increase in force and ferocity. He grows stronger, striking down her enemies with a flash of his blade. With every death it becomes less difficult. They were Gunmar’s men, he tells himself, bad trolls he would ultimately have to kill anyways. It is much easier to deal with the devil you know than the devil you don’t. He believes that with each swing of his sword he comes closer and closer to freeing his girlfriend.

He has always been good at daydreaming.

It is when she revives Angor Rot that he loses his patience. How could she? It is when he begins to doubt.

The night is dark and foggy when he starts off for the journey home. She must have noticed his silence at the resurrection, because he runs into her in the forest.

She is ethereal, the glow of her eyes and staff matched only by the shine by his amulet.

“Jim, where are you going?”

“Don’t you dare,” he says coldly, avoiding her gaze. “You brought him back, after all we’ve done? Angor Rot tried to kill me. He tried to kill my mom. Hell, he tried to kill all of us! And for what? Is Claire even in there anymore?”

Fingers weave through his hair; he startles at the sensation. It had been forever since someone touched him.

“I feel so lost, so confused,” she whispers in his ear. He shudders at how close she is. “So many memories. I’m not even sure who I am anymore.”

“You’re Claire,” he insists, “You’re my girlfriend. You like Papa Skull and guacamole. A-and you have a light brother, and a mom and dad. Your best friends are—”

Her lips silence him. It is soft and hesitant, as if she would break at even the slightest of touches.

Jim melts into the kiss. It has been so long since she has last kissed him. His arms encircle her waist. Warmth fills his being. He has forgotten how nice hugs are.

“Only you. You are the only one I can’t kill,” she admits. “I have sent dozens of Trollhunters to their deaths and yet, when when I look at you, I cannot bring myself to even consider the notion. Why is that I wonder? Have Claire and I become so intertwined that her feelings now influence mine?”

“You...” His eyes search hers. “Who are you exactly?”

She tilts her heads to the side, lips pulled into a secretive smile. Her fingertips travel down to his face. “I’m known by many names.”

A chill runs down his spine. The air becomes thick with what he will later associate as her magic. As of now, it reminds him of burning wood and incense.

“Then what would you like me to call you?” He asks.

The purple of her eyes lightens.

“Morgana,” she says after a long moment.

“And who are you, Morgana?”

“I’m many things,” she says wistfully.

Answers, he later learns, are never easy with Morgana.

He goes in a different direction. “Where’s Claire? What have you done with her?”

Not-Claire drums her fingers across his shoulder, staring directly into his eyes. “Your girlfriend and I are one now.”

“Is there any way you can just separate from her?” He asks. “I’ll do anything.”

“It would kill both of us.”

He wants to cry. His eyes even begin to water. A black-nailed finger catches one of his stray tears. She brings it to her mouth and laps at it like a feline. Disgust blossoms in his stomach but he suppresses it. It is another stark reminder that Morgana is not Claire.

She sighs, switching her gaze to the sky. “I simply want to protect my people. I didn’t mean to take over your girlfriend. It was an accident.”

He laughs darkly, “An accident or a convenience?”

“Do you hate me?” Morgana says, voice wavering slightly. Her hands tighten on his shoulders.

“I,” he swallows, looking away, “I don’t know.”

He wants to, but every time he looks at her he sees Claire. Her eyes, her nose, her smile—it’s all there.

“She loves you.”

The lingering hope in his chest swells.

“She does?”

“Yes, so much. I can hear her, even now.” She says, and he believes her, because what else could he do?

“Tell her…tell her I love her too. That I’ll never betray her. I’m hers, forever and always.” And he means it.

“Then you’ll stay?” She asks, and its Claire’s voice, and he’s the happiest he’s been in weeks. “Here with me?”

“Where else would Romeo be than with his Juliet?” He jokes. Later on, he would curse how easily he falls, how gullible he is. He still thinks he could do it alone.

She emits a small laugh, light and dainty. “Thank you, my Trollhunter.”

And then he is hers.

#Trollhunters #fallen too far #jlaire #dark jlaire #fanfic #jim lake junior #claire nuñez #clairegana #Dark!Claire #dark!jim #Dark Fic

[winterknights]

WinterKnights Masterlist & Reveal

Winterknights - Final Masterlist & Author/Artist Reveals

Thank you again to all the wonderful creators who joined the winterknights fest as writers, artists, and pinch-hitters! Thank you to everyone who participated in and supported the fest by showing your love through comments and kudos! If you haven't made it through all the fantastic works here, it's never too late! Feedback is always appreciated! The AO3 collection has been revealed and names will be added to the posts over the next day or so. Here are your reveals and the final masterlist of the fest! You may now crosspost your entries, etc! ---------- ART: ♥ lfb72 drew It was an accident! [Merlin/Arthur - G] Merlin and Gwen are enjoying a snowball fight when some posh good-looking blond guy gets in the way and Merlin accidentally hits him in the face. ♥ dylan_mx drew Winter has begun [Gwaine/Percival - G] Gwaine and Percival spend some time together during the holidays. ♥ larry_as_fuck drew Cold hands, warm hearts [Arthur/Merlin - G] Merlin was a runaway who Arthur took in after he found him in his porch and decided he needed help. A year later, they celebrate their first Christmas as a couple, and offers to cook their friends Christmas dinner. ♥ tracionn drew Sweets and Sweeties [Merlin/Arthur - G] Merlin and Arthur run a Muffins & Sweets shop together and they do their best to make the Christmas time as yummy and as christmas-y as possible for their costumers. Well, and a bit for themselves too ♥ ♥ lao_paperman drew Decorating for Christmas - You're doing it wrong [Merlin/Arthur - G] Decorating for christmas would be much easier if Arthur wouldn’t „try to help“. ♥ merlocked18 drew and wrote One Winter's Night [Merlin/Arthur - 500 - G] Arthur gets caught in a fierce winter storm. ♥ merlinsdeheune drew Where the love light gleams [Merlin/Gwen - G] Christmas in the Emrys/Smith household ♥ maryluis drew A ‘little’ joke [Merlin/Arthur - G] Cursed Mistletoe is all over Camelot Castle! Anyone stuck under it must kiss before they can pass. ♥ whimsycatcher drew A Merry Muse [Merlin/Arthur - G] Arthur should've expected to end up here after telling his father that he wanted to be a photographer, not help him run Camelot Mall. Snot-nosed brats and garish decorations were far from his preferred subject matter... What Arthur never would've expected was for a cheeky elf to bring him inspiration... along with some holiday cheer! ♥ disco_mouse drew a href="http://winterknights.livejournal.com/27123.html">Skating Date</a> [Merlin/Gwaine - G] Merlin and Gwaine go on an ice skating date. ♥ marmaladica drew A Christmas to Remember [Merlin/Arthur - PG] Shut up Merlin. ♥ reineyday drew Newlywed Christmas [Merlin/Arthur - G] Merlin and Arthur celebrate their first Christmas together as a married couple and get caught up slow dancing instead of decorating the tree like they were supposed to be doing. ♥ lao_paperman drew Merthur in a box [Merlin/Arthur - G] What are your wishes for christmas? How about Merthur in a christmas present box? ♥ elencaart drew Snowy Solitude [Merlin/Arthur - G] Another winter come, another year gone, and still Merlin waits patiently for his king's return. The snow is cold but his magic and fond memories of his friends are always a welcome warmth. ♥ sockpuppet_2 drew From the Leodegrace-Pendragons [Morgana/Gwen - G] Years pass and times change, but silver foxes Morgana and Gwen manage to enjoy Christmas every year. FANMIX: ♥ dreammaiden created Adore [Merlin/Arthur - PG-13] Their journey from becoming a couple after years of being just friends wasn't the easiest one. FIC: ♥ nympha_alba wrote Mistletoe Mischief Managed [Merlin/Arthur - PG-13 - 3000 Words] On the day of Pendragon Corporation's Christmas party, a prankster with magic has adorned the offices with enchanted mistletoe – mistletoe that appears at random and traps people underneath it until they've kissed… ♥ schweet_heart wrote noël [Merlin/Arthur - PG - 670 Words] December, 1914. On Christmas Eve, Arthur dreams of home. ♥ lairofthedragon wrote Despite the Cold [Merlin/Arthur - PG-13 - 1200 Words] It was the last day of school before the winter holidays, and Merlin was tired. His last class had spent the whole period having a competition as to who could throw the most paper balls into the rubbish bin when Merlin’s back was turned, and the class before that had ended early because two students had almost gotten into a fight. It had been a terrible, exhausting day, and Merlin was quite looking forward to getting home and spending the evening curled up on his couch with a good book and a cup of tea, taking sweet, sweet comfort in the knowledge that he wouldn’t have to see his students again until January. ♥ ella_rose88 wrote A Christmas Surprise [Arthur/Gwen - PG-13 - 1690 Words] It’s been two months since Gwen slept with her boss and she finds herself pregnant to Arthur Pendragon, heir to Uther’s Pendragon’s renowned law firm, and who told her after their night together that they couldn’t be together. What will Gwen do? How will Arthur react? ♥ vix_spes wrote In Pursuit of Magic [Merlin/Gwaine - 2043 - G] His first Christmas at Hogwarts is everything Merlin had imagined and more. ♥ clockfraught wrote The Mid-Winter Feast [Merlin/Arthur - 1700 - G] He tells Arthur it's a only cold, but Arthur knows Merlin too well to believe him. ♥ sn0wwight wrote Just Next Door [Merlin/Arthur - 3758 - R] Arthur's never thought about his neighbor, but he's been thinking about Arthur. An impromptu invitation to his neighbor's Christmas party leaves Arthur happily surprised. ♥ paopu_parachute wrote To Sail Away In A Moonbeam [Merlin/Arthur - 4000 - G] Arthur’s lived in the same seaside town for his entire life where one of his only connections to the outside world is the pirates who dock twice a year to restock their supplies on their way to bigger and more exciting things. ♥ aelys_althea wrote Winter's North Wind [Merlin/Arthur - 20000 - NC-17] Arthur hated Christmas. No, he hated the Christmas holiday, the same every year, the same trip, the same boredom. At least until he met the young man who breathed wonder and abruptly turned such monotony into excellence itself. Arthur didn't like the Christmas holiday - not for one aspect, for one friend, for one glimmer of the impossible in the form of a man who wasn't quite human. ♥ ajsrandom wrote Christmas Unplanned [Ensemble - 1924 - G] Nobody’s really “doing” Christmas this year, although they gradually come together in this series of e-mails. ♥ emrys_mk wrote A Magical Christmas in Camelot (or How Merlin Put the Magic Back in Arthur's Christmas) [Merlin/Arthur - 4400 - PG-13] Arthur’s love for Christmas disappeared long ago, but perhaps he can get it back with the help of his ailing father... and someone unexpected. ♥ narlth wrote On Edge [Merlin/Arthur - 2478 - G] Merlin gets pnemonia, Arthur is guilty, Gaius is just annoyed. ♥ eilonwy77 wrote Elf-Boy and Turniphead Save Christmas [Merlin/Arthur - 45000 - PG] Three weeks before Merlin's eleventh Christmas, he is introduced to the thirteen-year old Arthur Pendragon, Prince of Camelot and eventual heir to the throne of all Albion. As far as early Christmas presents go, it is a tremendous disappointment. When Merlin's mum is hired as royal governess by a magic-hating king, Merlin is not happy. Sharing Christmas with a turniphead of a prince does nothing to help his holiday spirit. And he had been so good this year. . . . ♥ digthewriter wrote Late Night Sexting [Merlin/Arthur - 7000 - NC-17] That one time Arthur went online looking for a release... ♥ nympha_alba wrote Cooking Up A Storm [Merlin/Arthur - 3000 - PG-13] It's Arthur and Merlin's first Christmas together, and in a moment of madness they offer to cook Christmas dinner for family and friends… ♥ a_big_apple wrote The Longest Night [Merlin/Arthur - 2282 - G] They’re lost, the sun is setting, the horses have bolted, and they’re both soaked to the bone from a mishap with some thin ice and a stream, but at least they don’t have to contend with bandits.

 “Just a quick trip, Merlin,” Merlin sing-songs in his prattiest voic“We’ll bring back more meat for the feast, Merlin.” “Shut up, Merlin,” Arthur stutters, his teeth clacking together. ♥ katherynephl wrote Sweet Dreams of Mistletoe [Merlin/Arthur - 13452 - PG] What could be worse for Arthur King of Camelot than to have to entertain the visiting King Olaf and his still-entirely-smitten daughter Lady Vivian over the holidays? Doing it during an outbreak of magical mistletoe all over the castle, of course! ♥ rotrude wrote Good Cheer [Merlin/Arthur - 2300 - PG-13] Arthur Pendragon learns there's always room for good cheer. ♥ dhamphir wrote How to win the girl by singing off-key [Elena/Mithian - 3600 - PG] Elena hates winter but meeting Mithian’s caroling group might just change that. ♥ pukajen wrote Christmas Times [Merlin/Arthur - 7529 - NC-17] The first Christmas that they knew each other, Merlin didn't get Arthur a gift. ♥ eilonwy77 wrote Of Nutcrackers, Dragons, and Kings [Merlin/Arthur - 11000 - PG] Seven-year old Aithusa is finally big enough to dance in the Nutcracker. Too bad her Daddy falls asleep as soon as the show begins. . . . It’s Merlin, Nutcracker-style. Or The Nutcracker, Merlin-style. Aithusa really doesn't care which, just as long as Daddy wakes up in time to see her moment in the spotlight.. ♥ alafaye wrote A Yule Gift [Merlin/Arthur - 750 - G] The first gift of the new year is important. ♥ sara_bocchan wrote Welcome Changes Ahead [Merlin/Arthur - 8300 - PG-13] Arthur gets home late after celebrating into the New Year. He finds a homeless stranger hiding in his porch, and – drunk as he is – decides to let him stay in his guest room for the night. Over the next day Arthur slowly gets to know the man, Merlin, and chooses to help him as much as he can.

#merthur #merlin fic #merlin fanart #merthur fic #merlin #winterknights #winterknights 2016

[mostnoblelancelot]

there’s a siren somewhere | g & l

@gxpendragon @ladyxguinevere

tw: rape mention

Guinevere wasn’t one to keep a pulse on the comings and goings of the castle.  She didn’t want to be part of the gossip in the trenches, which was especially difficult to avoid with her semi-recent role in the Queen’s service.  Though Guinevere was somewhere on the younger side within the grouping of women and adults should know better, she did while they did not.  They were merciless gossips and, she had a feeling, as bad as a pit of vipers if the situation called for it or they felt like being nasty.  She didn’t really fit with them, but she excelled at keeping her mouth shut, so she didn’t fall out with them, either. 

Somehow, though, she was always aware of Lancelot.  He’d been the one who pulled her onto his horse as her village was ransacked and other, dishonorable men were trying to get at her.  Without knowing her more clandestine role to the king himself, Lancelot had saved her from a terrible fate without a second thought.  He’d covered her torn clothing with his own cape, and he’d then covered for her in every other sense over time in Camelot.   It was not a difficult or fussy bond they shared, but it was real.  Maybe because of her largely undetected place in the King’s bed, and all the complications that came along with that balancing act and secrecy, her deep friendship with Lancelot was a saving grace.  She held him in the highest regard and she always sensed when he was around, when he needed something from her, and what it was he needed. 

This particular sense told her he was out of sorts and would benefit from her companionship.  Once the Queen was in her chamber, locked away for the night, and Guinevere was free, she managed the too-easy task of swiping a wineskin from the cellar (and hiding two more under cover of her dress, tied to her legs with thin rope) and settled herself in front of the dying fire in the knights’ designated area of the castle.  Her own lodging wasn’t far from it, though she was slightly lower on the rungs of social hierarchy, and most of the knights were tending to their own social agendas at this time of night.  They would have the space to themselves and be able to retreat with discretion at the end of it.

Somehow, she knew Lancelot was not among them, out gallivanting and being raucous and young, and he would sense her laying in wait.  Like she knew him, he knew her.   She tugged the rug as close to the fireplace as she could manage and waited, listening for his footfalls so as not to be surprised.

Lancelot rarely concerned himself with castle gossip, but perhaps he should have listened to it more closely. It might have warned him. He wasn't blind to Lady Elaine's affection for him, but he didn't realize how far she would go to win his favor. If he had, he would have kept at least an entire room between them at all times. When he was younger, he might have thought less of bedding a woman he had no intention of marrying, but he'd outgrown those habits long ago. As it was, he'd done his best to stay out of her path and not encourage her fancies. His best had not been enough.

He wasn't sure where she had acquired the magic to trick him into her bed, but he had some guesses--namely two--and they were nearly as troubling as the betrayal itself. He had no idea what either Merlin or Lady Morgana might have against him, but it was clear one of them had an agenda--or a very twisted sense of humor. Lancelot was less amused. In fact, he'd rarely been so angry. He'd never before shouted at a woman, much less threatened one, but not killing her outright had felt like a very near thing at the time. He'd left before he could harm her, but he made no promises if she approached him again.

His bloodlust had eased, but he was still seething. Sparring with a few of the other knights had done little to help, and there was no one he trusted enough with the truth of what had happened. Well, that wasn't entirely true. There was one person. Guinevere was easily his truest friend in the castle, and he knew very well that she could be trusted to keep secrets. Given the nature of Elanie's deception, he was going to find it difficult to tell her about it though. Anger and shame still pulsed through him at the memory of her face--that was not actually her face. He balled his hand into a fist and resisted the urge to punch something. Violence wasn't in his nature, and he wasn't comfortable with it now. He was rarely so out of control of his own feelings.

As if by some unspoken agreement, they'd both visited the wine cellar and made for the fire in the knights' common area, although she'd beaten him to it. He'd mistakenly thought some fresh air would clear his head, but since he couldn't clear it, he'd decided to muddy it further. He knew that she would be there even before he strode into the room. They had an uncanny sense of each others' presence and needs. After last night's events, he was fairly certain he knew why he was so aware of her, but he couldn't have said why she was equally attuned to him. He threw himself into the chair nearest her and took a long pull from the wineskin. "Keep it coming," he said gruffly.

Guinevere found herself lost to her thoughts as she waited, staring into the flickering flames that filled  the common area with a gentle warmth.  It was beautiful and its constant motion was one thing that could make her feel less solitary, less alone.  The only thing that could pull her from the vague thoughts was a presence entering the room.  She was unsurprised to see it was the person she’d been waiting for, but couldn’t glean any more information from watching him.  He walked in and sat down, not quite like himself, and greeted her very briefly.  But she had known he wasn’t himself already, so none of this was a surprise.   She reached to her hiding place and retrieved a wineskin for herself.  

“Perhaps you should just keep that one,” she said, her voice low but only vaguely amused.  There was something appealing about him all the time, and moreso his rough, low voice. It sent a thrill through her she would quite likely never admit to feeling. His general demeanor, though, caused more concern than amusement and she frowned.  “You seem unusually unhappy, and I fear the wine may not be enough to soothe you. How else may I be of service?”

"If that is a challenge, then I accept." He wasn't usually the kind to seek any opportunity for proving his fortitude, and that wasn't what he was doing now. It was merely a way to carry on doing what he'd already decided to do, which was to wipe this day's experience from his memory. More's the pity if it should prove to be temporary. He took another long drink and then shook the wineskin experimentally to see how much was left. It sloshed around the empty spaces inside. He was confident he could have it empty in far less time than usual. Drinking to excess wasn't one of his vices, but at present, he could see the appeal.

In spite of himself, her offer forced him to crack a smile, the trace of mischief in it signalling that he was about to take it way out of context. "My lady, I am far too sober to entertain such talk." She was one of few people, and certainly the only lady at the court, that he would have dared to be so cheeky with. It was a facet of his personality that was usually buried beneath honor and good manners. It was also a way of not answering her question directly. He still wasn't sure what to say or how much he could stand to reveal. The wine likely wouldn't help with that, but it would make him care less about how the words came out. At the moment, that didn't seem such a bad thing.

Her words had not been designed as a challenge, but his acceptance gave her some pause.  He wasn’t normally a heavy drinker, which was a commonality they shared.  It was generally something that made him easier to spend time with than other men.  She very nearly opened her mouth to express concern, though not to request restraint, but his grin cut her off.  Against her better judgment, she returned his grin with one of her own. 

“If it is to be that form of assistance, not only are we too sober, but we are also too public,” she commented.  She took a drink from her own wine, though not as long as his.  The flavor was too strong for her to drink in a rush, and she refused to make something so wonderful leave a bitter taste behind.  Life was more than capable of that feat, and wine was solace.  The distinction, to her, was clear.  Perhaps he didn’t feel the same, and she would not condemn him for that.   Though she was quite curious what had caused his mood, that was still obvious to her in spite of his efforts to be a little tawdry and something resembling jovial, she did not press.  “Perhaps I could propose a game for us to pass the time until we are not too sober for… whatever comes next.”

"Quite," he agreed, somewhat more darkly than usual. He doubted there was a non-public place in this saintsforsaken castle, but he wasn't feeling so bitter that he wished to get into that topic. Then he realized that, either way, he'd managed to lighten the mood and then promptly set it on fire. He wasn't accustomed to being unhappy. It was possible he didn't know how to do it properly. He didn't want to bring her down to his level though, so he took another, smaller, drink and tried not to brood. "By all means," he agreed, with a gesture for her to proceed.

She adjusted her position, moving a bit closer to him so they could speak in softer tones.  She strongly doubted anyone would disturb, or overhear, but this particular game would require at least an effort at something resembling security.   “So the game I am thinking of requires three pieces of information about you, given to me.  It can be something generic or something very personal.  Two of the facts must be true, and one must be a lie.  If I am able to correctly determine which is the lie, then you drink.  If I am not, then I drink.  I take my turn doing the same, and the same rules apply.”  She hoped this might loosen his tongue and his demeanor a bit, and possibly open the door to other confession.  Whatever was darkening his mood, she didn’t want it to linger and fester.

The natural response was to shift closer to her as well, and he wondered briefly if the game required secrecy or if she was merely being cautious. The room was empty at this hour, but after the kind of day he'd had, he wasn't feeling especially secure about that. Clearly, things were not always what they looked like.

"Alright." He considered the things he might tell her. He wasn't a particularly secretive man, nor was he a very skilled liar. "When I was a boy, I stole roses from my Lady's garden. When I was somewhat older, I fell in love with a water nymph who did not return my affection." He smiled, pausing again to think. It was more difficult than he'd expected. "My horse, Concorde, is my closest confidante.

She toyed with the edges of the wineskin in her hand as she turned his words over in her mind, poking at them for weaknesses and twisting them into the things she knew of him to test which one felt wrong.  “I cannot imagine you stealing, but I cannot imagine someone being loved by you and not returning the sentiment, either.”  She turned toward him and narrowed her eyes.  “And I resent the implication I am not your closest confidante.  Are you sure two of these are truths?” 

With a breath out and a gentle smile, she offered her answer. “I do not believe you fell into unrequited love with a water nymph.”  Even though she had previously said she couldn’t imagine the sentiment not being returned, she successfully fought the urge to offer the opinion that he was naturally quite lovable, and the brief acknowledgement of what that might mean for her own feelings toward him.

He chuckled, his lips parting to answer her question before he caught himself. They were playing a game; he couldn't very well give it away by giving her more information. It was a success in one way at least, since his mind was temporarily off his troubles. When she guessed correctly, he took a long drink from his wineskin. "I've never been in love," he admitted. "But she was a lovely girl." Most of the nymphs were, if also rather flighty and moody. "I believe it is your turn." He found himself anticipating what she might say, as well as wondering how well he actually knew her. She seemed to read him effortlessly and always had, if the ease with which she'd guessed his lie was anything to go by.

When he confirmed her hesitant answer was correct, she beamed.  Perhaps her reasoning had not been quite right, but that was rather beside the point.  The smile faded into a moment of contemplation, one where she had no regard for what her face was doing, as she considered what to offer.  Part of her thought of stating how fickle love could be, but she didn’t volunteer the topic.  She couldn’t be fully sure what she felt for Arthur was love, because it wasn’t something that would ever have the chance to go the distance.  

“Very well.  I hope you are listening, because I intend to say this one time only.” She meant it to sound stern, but she failed miserably because she was smiling.  “One: I once had the opportunity to marry a miller, but he opted out of accepting a woman who could read.  Two: my favorite pet was a dog we had when I was a child.  And three: if you were to kiss me behind my ear, you would find it the best place for such an act, though I have no control over the preference.”

The wine was beginning to set in. He wasn't usually one to opt for numbness, but it was a relief to take the edge off his emotions right now, even if that meant he was also loosening his tongue. If he wasn't going to share this experience with Guinevere, then there was no one left to tell. The castle was too full of gossip to risk talking about it with anyone else.

His mind had wandered briefly, but it returned at her attempt at sternness. He took another drink and set the skin aside. "You have my full attention, my lady." He couldn't help an answering smile, even though an hour ago he wouldn't have thought it possible. People were easily that close-minded, so he had no trouble believing the first. "One sounds like every miller I have ever met, and three is strangely specific." His smile widened slightly. "So I will go with two." She'd never struck him as much of an animal lover, with horses as the exception.

She watched him with something resembling concern as he took yet another drink of wine.  It was so out of the ordinary for him that it doubled down on the thought she’d had that something was troubling him.  It was a bit of a relief when he set the skin aside, if only because she knew he was still paying attention to what she said.  When he confirmed he was with her, she believed him.  

“Two is the lie.  We had a dog, but the dog and I did not get along.  He belonged to my brother, and was used as an aid in hunting.”  The explanation was probably unnecessary, but she offered it freely because she knew, no matter the size of lie or truth about her, it was safe in his care.  She took a drink from her own wine skin, but it was no more than a hearty sip.  “I believe that makes it your turn – if you can find another lie to tell.  This is harder than I imagined it would be.”

"Yet you get along well with horses," he observed. Maybe it was the nature of the dog's purpose, bred for utility rather than companionship, though the same could be said for horses. He personally found them companionable, but he got along well with most living things, animal or human. "I was never very skilled at lying," he admitted, taking another decidedly smaller drink. He was feeling the effects well enough already, but he needed the fortification for what he was going to say next.

"I was raised knowing I would one day be a knight in Arthur's service. I remember the faces of every man I've killed in battle." He hesitated. Perhaps his tone gave him away, but he wasn't sure he could say the next thing in the same voice. Putting words to it was far from pleasant. "The Lady Elaine once used magic to tempt me into her bed."

His observation nearly made her smile, but she reined it in at the last second by pressing her lips together.  “Yes, well, horses have a quiet and noble intelligence.  Dogs have noxious odors, loud noises, and are sometimes a bit too boisterous.  I’ve also seen them get distracted licking themselves.”  

In spite of the (truthful) joking, she was fully focused when he started listing his three items for the next round.  As he finished, she knew what she wanted to state for the lie, and it wasn’t the last item he offered.  Maybe it was his hesitation or his general demeanor.  She frowned.  “I do not believe you knew you would be in Arthur’s service,” she said softly.  “But I do believe you would be extremely upset by Lady Elaine lying to get you into bed.  Given your current affect, I think that statement is true.”

"One could say the same for people, if they were determined to be uncharitable." He said it at least half in jest, though his face didn't reflect that. That wasn't usually his perspective, but he wasn't feeling particularly charitable at the moment. He often found the castle too boisterous.

"Last night, to be precise," he confirmed with a small nod, chasing the confession with another drink. "I did know, from the time I was a child. Perhaps not the specifics, but the Lady raised me for it." He didn't usually have trouble with eye contact, but he stared at the floor, the pattern in the rug a little mesmerizing in his current state. "I couldn't see all their faces for their armor, but I remember the first. I remember enough."

The conversation had taken an unintendedly grim turn, but there was no way to flip any of those around into a joke. He decided a straightforward apology would be better suited, and he'd likely apologize tomorrow in more detail for saddling her with his moody company. He raised his head and made an effort to shake off his gloom. "Forgive me for the melancholy turn our game has taken. It is your turn, if you still wish to play."

There was a lot going on in their conversation all of a sudden, a lot to unpack. She watched him with open concern and affection, not flinching when he finally looked up. It didn’t feel like going back to the game would be a possibility, though he offered. She didn’t even bother taking a drink to celebrate being wrong because she was distracted, just watching him.

She shook her head. “I wanted to get at what was bothering you from a different angle than asking outright and the game has served its purpose,” she admitted. “I figured if it didn’t come up, we were at least spending time together and that will never be bad. However, now I know. All I can say is I am here for you as you have been for me so often.  We may continue if we wish, or you may air your grievance and I will keep your confidence.  I can only hope you will feel relieved of the burden if you do.”

He didn't usually squirm under scrutiny, and he didn't now, but he was finding it suddenly uncomfortable to be the focus of her attention. As soon as he realized it bothered him, he forced himself to raise his head and meet her gaze steadily. He was a lot of things, but not a coward, and he could face her while he spoke about this. As he'd expected, it was easier now that the words were out.

He nodded his agreement about the game running its course. In hindsight, it wasn't looking very fun, but he could admire her cleverness in getting information out of him. "Thank you." He paused, considering those options. He didn't wish to play anymore, but he wasn't sure he wanted to linger on the subject either. "There is little else to say. I was fool enough to fall for her trickery." He rubbed a hand over his jaw, his mind turning back over the previous night. He wasn't sure he wanted to share the exact details of that deception, for an entirely different reason.

There was a good, long internal debate.  Neither of them were really the wordiest of people, and the closer they held something to them, the more true those patterns held.  While he said there was little else to say, she didn’t entirely believe him.  Instead, she believed there was little else he wanted to say.  Should she pry?  Should she let it come out at a natural pace?  Or would he squander this moment, for whatever reason, and then be duty-bound to keep a secret that would eat at him?  Even a drink yielded no answers for Guinevere. 

“You are, as far as I know you, no fool,” she finally said.  It was a bare statement where she could have elaborated indefinitely.  “You have every right to be angry at her elaborate scheme, but please don’t fall prey to doubting yourself based on someone else’s actions.  You are a good man, and you deserve kind treatment.  The only fault here is hers for taking advantage of you.”  She took another drink, unprepared for what he might say, but ultimately she had to make the offer.  “I do not know if it will help you to unburden yourself, but if that is what you want to try, I am here to listen.”  

How strange it was for the situation to be reversed. Usually, it was Lancelot who was trying to coax the words from her without pressuring her overmuch. Of the two, he was more likely to be forthcoming, although it was a somewhat deceptive trait. He made friends easily by sharing just enough, and still kept much of himself to himself. Because the silence had stretched rather painfully, neither of them filling their natural roles, he copied her movement and took another drink. It burned pleasantly at the edges of his feelings, promising to eclipse them given enough time.

"Perhaps I am the biggest fool of all," he murmured absently. Up until the previous night, he'd allowed himself to pretend that his feelings for Guinevere were nothing more than friendly. Perhaps if he'd acknowledged them sooner, he wouldn't have been so quick to fall for Elaine's trickery. He'd wanted it to be true, and it put a chink in his armor large enough to be visible to another. He considered her words with a quiet nod. He didn't know if telling the tale would unburden him either, but now that he'd started, it seemed better to let the poison out. He wasn't the sort of person to fester in his own unhappiness.

"She used magic to show me the face of someone I love. In my willingness to believe it, I doubt I even hesitated a moment." A small, unhappy smile quirked his lips. "Whatever spell she used was gone by morning, and had I stayed, we would likely both be dead for our trouble." Lancelot in a hangman's noose, and Elaine because he could have killed her. He'd managed to kill many people as a knight without thinking himself a violent person, but the memory washing over him afresh clenched his hands into fists. It was best they did not cross paths for a while, though he'd have preferred forever.

Guinevere shook her head, protesting yet again, but she did not give the thought voice.  She’d already said she didn’t think him a fool, and yet he still murmured it to himself.  He was beating himself up for this and there was little to nothing she could do to ease the pain of self-inflicted wounds. 

It was almost a surprise when he spoke again. She hadn’t accepted his nod for what it was, agreement, until he found words.  Any easing that happened when he started speaking, though, had disappeared by the time he finished.  They spent more time talking, or skirting around, her involvement with Arthur than they did talking of Lancelot’s romantic endeavors.  The face of someone I love, was enough to haunt her.  Was she that horrible of a friend, of a support?  He loved someone and she had no idea whom it was? 

And why did that bring up something uncomfortable in her chest, eventually forcing her to swallow hard in order to even consider accepting it?

The good in the situation was the vaguely threatening curl of his hands, for it gave her a distraction as she reached over without thought to slip her hand into his.  Though he was a knight, a good one, and had ridden in battle, she saw no reason for him to be tensed and ready for a fight here and now.   If her grasp could help him release a bit of the tension, she would gladly provide it, although it felt insufficient. 

“I am glad you fled, then.  I am sorry she forced you into that situation.”  She pressed her lips together, wineskin slid off her lap and largely forgotten for the moment.  “How can I help you?  For all the help you’ve provided me, I would do anything to make this less grievous for you now.”

Current circumstances aside, Lancelot had no romantic endeavors to speak of. When he was younger, perhaps he had shown less restraint, but it had gradually become clear to him that he had no wish to marry and, if he did, the woman he cared for was already spoken for. Even if Arthur could never truly commit to her, far be it for him to come between Guinevere and her happiness. Also, he'd been denying it as hard as he could to save them all the heartache. That particular wall was in shambles, but he expected he'd be able to build it back up over time when the feelings were no longer so raw.

He was so busy wallowing that he wasn't prepared for the proximity. He startled slightly under her touch and then thought perhaps the wine had worked better than he realized because he wasn't a person who startled easily. "You are helping, my lady. I could ask for little more than drinking, conversation, and good company." He gave her hand a small squeeze in return and then pulled it away on the pretense of reaching for the wineskin. For the first time, her touch sent tiny stabs of pain and regret through him, and he was newly angry at Elaine for ruining that as well.

Guinevere wasn’t perceptive enough, tuned though she was to him in the moment, to notice when he startled.  She let him pull away without complaint, but her spirits slipped a bit.  She had no idea how to comfort him, or even if he would allow it.  It seemed he would only tolerate so much by way of attempt.  She didn’t entirely believe his words, but they were all she had.

“Perhaps…” she trailed and reached for the wineskin she’d been drinking from.  For reasons she refused to examine too closely, she was about to choke on her next words.  She raised the wineskin to her mouth so she could drink as soon as she finished speaking.  “Would the one you love be a possibility?  Perhaps if the last hands to touch you were genuine, it would lessen the anger here.”

Lancelot didn't entirely believe himself either, but there was no more he would ask from her, even in his slightly drunken state. Far from taking the edge off his emotions, the wine seemed to have only sunk him further into melancholy. He wasn't sure how much longer he could stand to impose his brooding on her presence. He could hardly stand his attitude, himself.

He was too preoccupied with his own self-pity to pick up on the subtleties of her mood. Even sober, she was one of few people who managed to conceal much from him if she wished to. "The woman I love is spoken for," he said, a trace of weariness entering his tone. He couldn't quite bear to meet her gaze when he said it, so he contented himself with gazing into the hearth. He wasn't planning to make that declaration, perhaps ever, and certainly not in these circumstances.

She was floundering on decoding his subtleties as well, as he often seemed a mystery.  He generally was a man who chose his words carefully.  While overall she felt they had that in common to some extent, she was more likely to speak to him without fear of impunity.  If there were anywhere she would be free, it would be with him.  That thought nearly stopped her completely.  

The pang that filled her upon his admission only intensified when he was looking down as he spoke.  No matter how close they were, this information was off limits and she didn’t want to push any more than she already had.  His explanation made it clear there was nothing to be done about it, either.  Rather than focus on the woman and the vague feeling she suspected was something like jealousy, she focused on him. “You of all men deserve to have your love returned, Lance.  You are so… good.  And not perfect, but so worthy.  If she cannot see that and realign her choices, perhaps she is not worthy of you.  Of course, my saying so and your accepting it are two different things.  I’m sorry you’re in this position.  I hate to see you hurt and wish there was something I could do to help.”

Ordinarily, he felt the same. If he had a confidante in Camelot, it was Guinevere, and he trusted her discretion as much as she trusted his. The fact that it wouldn't leave this room was the only reason this conversation had started in the first place. He was regretting that now, a little bit, but only because he'd inadvertently turned the topic to her.

The insane urge to laugh rose up in him when she spoke. She was being kind; he knew that, but she was also speaking about herself without knowing it. He contained it with a wry smile. Even lacking sobriety, he wouldn't do her the disservice of laughing at her kindness. He reached for her hand, clasping it between both of his, and it was easier to meet her gaze now. "Thank you, Guinevere, but you do her a discredit. She does not know of my feelings. But perhaps I will consider telling her, one day."

He gave her hand a light squeeze and pulled away, hauling himself to his feet. He was even mostly steady on them. He'd tortured them both enough for one night. There was no reason to stay and force her to be miserable along with him. "You have helped. Thank you for the wine, and the kind words. I could not ask for a better friend." He hoped she didn't hear as much regret in those words as he did. He could hardly be the person to come between her and Arthur's happiness, even if their king could never promise her anything more. Realizing that he wanted to was like being hit with it for the first time. Perhaps the wine had been a poor decision.

There was something in the hand clasp.  Something stirred within her, but aside from noticing it, she couldn’t define or detail it any further.  Before she had the chance to really think on it any further, he’d given her a squeeze and then departed anyway.

She wanted to press.  She wanted to ask why he hadn’t been more forthcoming with this woman.  She wanted to know whom it was.  Perhaps it wouldn’t matter, but of all people, Guinevere longed to see Lancelot happy.  Even if he couldn’t be happy, he didn’t deserve the misery and anger he was currently feeling. It was easier for her to rise with a modicum of grace, because she’d consumed less.  She could feel the dismissal even before he spoke, and more acutely once it was issued.  “Well, as your friend, I feel it would be a mistake to leave you before you are even a little cheered.”  I don’t think you should be alone right now.  She hoped he wouldn’t make her say it.  “Perhaps a walk along the shore?  And only safe topics when we’re out in something resembling public.”

Even somewhat intoxicated, he could tell that he was leaving her with a pile of questions. He also knew how out of character that was between them. Normally, they would drink and joke and speak freely. He didn't doubt that Guinevere knew more about him than even the knights. He couldn't share this with her, but he suddenly wasn't sure he could continue to keep it from her either. There was a heavy ache in his chest, and he suspected it was at least as much from the deception as it was from Elaine's treachery. He hated that there was a secret between them, hated more that he was the cause of it.

Of course, she couldn't just let him leave with the remaining shreds of his dignity. He would have been reluctant to let her go, had the situation been reversed, but in this case, it wasn't working in his favor. "Are you going to stay by side until dawn, or tomorrow's dawn?" He tried for a smile and couldn't find one. He wasn't sure how long it would take him to feel cheered again, but he was positive he couldn't endure a walk around the lake in this condition. "I cannot," he said gently. He took her hand, pressing a brief kiss to the back of it, and then daring himself to press one to her palm. "I wish things were different." It was the only truth he could give her right now.

Guinevere raised her eyebrows at his question, however gently he asked it.  She wanted to protest that she could.  Truth be told, she had very little keeping her in Camelot.  The mainstays were Arthur, Lancelot, and the more subversive reality she had nowhere else to go.  Her home had burned, her father was dead, her brothers were scattered and weren’t likely to care anyway.  In some ways, Arthur and Lancelot were all she had.  It wasn’t as though that tied her down or forced her to stay, though.  She had moments where she wondered if Arthur would truly notice if she left; in reality, the reason she stayed is she knew Lancelot would notice. 

“I could,” she protested, a feeble sound she barely recognized as it slid from her lips.   He countered it, though, with only two words and a sweet gesture that left a hollow ache behind.  It stole her breath, the intimacy a step beyond their usual when he kissed her palm.

She wanted to ask if she could change the things he wanted to be different, but she couldn’t make herself speak over the feeling curling in her chest.  She couldn’t even name the feeling, let alone find other words.  Her eyes searched him frantically for answers, but other than his mouth on her skin briefly, he yielded nothing.  “Lance,” she whispered.  “Please.  If anything were to happen to you, I…” 

She trailed.  There was no more horrific thought to her, and not just for herself.  She couldn’t bear to give it name.

She was being ridiculous, a silly girl.  He was Sir Lancelot, Knight of the Round Table.  Arthur’s most ardent and skilled champion.  Nothing would happen to him because he was capable of any fight.  She stepped back, tears heavy in her eyes that she found herself wanting, but unable, to blame on the wine. 

“Very well.  I shall go, then.  This is your home.”

Lancelot would notice. Whether he willed it or not, he was always aware of her presence in the castle. Life without her there, even as Arthur's, would have been bleak indeed, but he didn't know that leaving was on the table. He'd never imagined she'd want to. He'd come to Camelot to serve Arthur, but perhaps his loyalties had shifted somewhat. If both Arthur and Guinevere were in equal danger, who would he save? He didn't know the answer. Actually, he knew the answer and didn't like it. He told himself he would save her first because she was more in need of protecting and not because he loved her. He didn't deserve either of them.

It shocked and appalled him to see her eyes fill with tears. Guinevere rarely cried. That he'd been the cause of it filled him with self-loathing and a kind of grim resignation. He would have to tell her, but not like this. "Please forgive me. You are the very last person I wished to hurt." It took more self-control than he thought he had to let go of her hand, but when she stepped back, he didn't try to stop her. "I swear to you that no further harm will come to me this night. If the offer stands, I would take that walk with you in the morning, and I will answer any questions that you have."

He took a step back himself, mirroring the action. "I'm sure Arthur is waiting for you." His tone was still gentle even though the words burned. He hoped that he was. He didn't like to think of her alone tonight, but he'd done enough damage with his own presence. He needed time to sober up and decide what to say to her. The truth, obviously, even though she might hate him for it. That would still be better than the hurt he'd seen on her face tonight.

She fixed her gaze on him for as long as she could without blinking, steady and more somber than she wanted.  In reality, she was trying to buy time to close her eyes until either she was alone or the water wouldn’t fall.  As he apologized for causing her grief, she would not allow one more thing to give rise to guilt within him.  

But how to explain he had done nothing to her, at least not directly?  She knew he was hurting, and that was the real source of her pain.  She hurt because he did, and it was a feeling as overwhelming and confusing as it was tangible and undeniable.  

“There is nothing to forgive,” she managed, her voice a little rough for the wear.  That she could, and would, blame on the wine if necessary.  “I am not upset because of my own hurt.”  She bit her lip and dropped her gaze, unwilling to explain any further.  His reassurance nothing else would happen to him provided at least a little comfort, even if she knew she was still far from rest.  There was too much weighing on her mind and heart at this point.   “We may walk in the morning if you wish, and you my choose our topic of discussion but I will have no further questions and wish to intrude no further on your private grievances.”

She swallowed hard against the bitter taste of that particular promise, blinking at last when her eyes burned and her tears would be reabsorbed for want of lubrication.  Her vision didn’t clear as he stepped back, following her lead.  

“He may very well be,” she confirmed, leaving the rest of her thoughts unspoken.  There was no plan for tonight; that is why she’d been free to visit Lancelot.  Arthur would generally receive her well, whether there was a plan in place or not, but there would be no spontaneous visit tonight.  She already knew too many things weighed on her mind and served as distractions her lover would be likely to question.  Even if Arthur were waiting, she would not be going to him.  

“I bid you good night, Sir Lancelot,” she finished, more formal than their usual greeting, complete with a bow of her head before she turned to retreat, intent on walking the lake unaccompanied.

#chat: guinevere #ladyxguinevere #gxpendragon #there’s a siren somewhere #broverse