UnderwingUnderling
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Summary
Hiraeth the story can be read as a stand alone complete fic, but I'm popping the one-shots in here too just to keep it organised! Marked as complete because there's no ongoing storyline, but I might add more oneshots in time 💖
- Words:
- 518,557
- Works:
- 3
- Bookmarks:
- 175
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Summary
Someone had been beaten for information. He had been able to hear their pain but could not identify the voice which bore it. Now, he saw his knights, strong, hale men, unbreakable in every way, and he realised the truth of it. These bastards had not wasted their time trying to crack the mask of Camelot. Instead, they had turned their attentions to the one they assumed was the weakest link in the chain.
Merlin.
(Based on Aeris' prompt "Asunder")
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Merlin's eyes changed when he did magic. He knew that. In the privacy of his own head, Arthur had come to think of that golden gleam as beautiful since he'd discovered the secret of his sorcery. This was different. It crackled like lightning; a storm held in Merlin's gaze. It cast brief light upon his cheekbones, spilling odd shadows across his face.
'What's happening?'
'He is dying,' a woman's voice said, sugar-sweet. 'And he will take you with him, Arthur Pendragon.'
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A routine hunt threatens to become a fatal disaster when Arthur and Merlin are captured and imprisoned in a dungeon used during the Purge. Can they fight their way to freedom, or will Merlin's power be the death of them?
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All in all, Arthur was one of those men about whom it could be said that their heart was in the right place, although he did take great pains to hide it. Still, the core of decency made Merlin endure the thick layers of arrogance (and their thin crispy crust of arseholery) with more patience than he’d ever thought possible. There was indeed a promise of greatness about Arthur that Merlin was willing to believe in.
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Merlin learns to live and work by Arthur's side. And vice versa.
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The sob that escaped him was a tiny thread of sound, little more than an embellishment upon the air. He did not wail. It was too big for that, too much, all the more painful for being unexpected. Not Arthur's betrothal, but his own reaction to it. It was as if all the nebulous uncertainty of the day had crystallised into a blade.
Worse, he had no one to blame but himself. He had never told Arthur how he felt. It had always seemed like a step too far, and now it was too late.
Tomorrow, he would pick up the pieces of himself and find the strength to bear the scars of it. He would be the friend Arthur needed, and he would pretend that was enough.
Tonight, he mourned.
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When Arthur announces his courtship to Lady Aveline of Spirehold, Merlin resigns himself to never speaking of his love. Yet the universe has other ideas. Stuck in the same, repeating day, can Merlin find his courage and break free, or will he lose his last chance to speak of what lingers in his heart?