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Merlin - Merlin TV Show For His Own Good



Merlin Fan Fiction - Merlin TV Show BY ShutupEccles


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Merlin Season after S2E11
Rating
(Refer to main page)
13+
Characters in the story
Gwen, Arthur, knights, Merlin
Pairings
(if needed)
Arthur/Gwen
Word Count
714
Disclaimer / Warning:
(if needed)
characters not my own
possible S2E11 spoilers






For His Own Good
Gwen hears Arthur’s voice.

Her cheek dimples automatically although her eyes blink back tears and her hands keep busy. She hears his confident words and sure footsteps falter—he sees her—but dare not stop. Another sliver of her heart breaks free and crumbles away. She has no right to wish otherwise. Arthur had professed his love for her—only her, and she had turned him away. For his own good.

For his own good?

He suffers as Gwen does and she knows it: sees it in his stance, feels it in the chill of distance between them, hears it in his formerly glorious voice. But does he? Does he know how much she wanted to accept him, risk everything for the slimmest possibility of Arthur-filled bliss?

She watches his back as he walks away. The shoulders so proud now slightly stooped—she had done that. She wants to run after him; touch his shoulder, a cheek; drown in those eyes, apologise breathlessly against those lips. She wants him to turn and see her looking and understand they share this pain, but at the same time she wills him to move on and be strong.


*~~~*
Gwen hears them ride in: clattering knights, boisterous and lewd after dodging death—except the one she needs to hear most.

She invites them to drink from the bucket she had only just filled as she had in the past.

Sir Leon smiles his usual thanks after removing his helm and calls his leader forth to drink first. “Sire?”

“Thank you Leon, but I will see you all refreshed before tending to my own thirst.”
Arthur’s companions clap him jovially on the back and teasing his formality after their ordeal, for in battle he behaves as first among equals, not as paramount knight or Crown Prince. He has a genuine smile for each of them. But when it is his turn to drink only the ghost of a remembered smile remains for his Guinevere.

“My Lord,” she curtsies and hides in formality, momentarily forgetting this was precisely how she addressed him when dividing their hearts. His already cautious eyes withdraw. “Sorry, I...” she dithers familiarly, wanting to say his name but not in front of others, hands wringing her skirt. She sees that he wants to take her hand as his fingers twitch towards her before curling into an almost reluctant fist. She looks up and his eyes meet hers.

The marvellous blond head gives a barely perceptible nod.

He understands.

“My Lord.” Gwen says again, this time filling the words with the truth of her heart.

“Guinevere.” Her name sounds dry, as if rough from disuse, but he cannot say it again. Not the way he wants to, with that peculiar little inflection he uses make that single word seem like a sonnet. Not here with an audience.

She flicks her brief “I know exactly how you feel” smile, usually reserved for saying: it can be embarrassing being associated with Merlin, can’t it and his lips quirk back at her.

A dimple briefly flirts in his cheek before he turns away.

She can breathe properly now. He knows. She fills the bucket again and now her tears flow as well.

He knows.

*~~~*

Gwen hears them arguing again.

She watches them banter insults. Merlin takes his liberties one jot too far and Arthur shoves him. They turn to each other and bold smiles suddenly replace irritation. Merlin quips something featuring “prat” and Arthur laughs richly then replies something including “idiot”.

She can’t help smiling as well. They both see Gwen and the smiles of the three shift; all happy to be in each other’s company but with a shadow of suppressed pain. Merlin hurts for both of them. It makes her feel stronger somehow to see his too-thin shoulders bow so slightly with the weight of their combined grief and her dimples shine forth with natural gratitude.

Arthur’s eyes and dimple briefly flirt with hers a split second before Merlin’s victorious grin makes the prince shove him even harder. The two men laugh again and the continued prattle of their banter scatters sunshine around them.

As long as he has Merlin, Arthur can be himself.

As long as Arthur can be himself, Gwen can be happy.

*end*









ShutupEccles
ShutupEccles
Latest page update: made by ShutupEccles , Apr 20 2010, 9:47 PM EDT (about this update About This Update ShutupEccles Moved from: Morgana's New Handbag - ShutupEccles

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