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For: Sophinisba; Merlin, Morgana-centric
Jun. 2nd, 2009 05:31 pmTitle: Guide to Survival
Author: Sherlockian
Morgana knew something was wrong when Uther stopped talking. Uther never just stopped talking, not when there was even the slightest chance he could win the argument (even if he had to end it with "I'm the King and I say so.") He had fallen silent, chin on his hand, watching Arthur's posturing bravado. "I'm going to save Merlin," Arthur said, chin lifted and shoulders back. He looked, she mused absently, like a poppet someone had posed to look like the Perfect Hero. The over-exaggeration would have been funny if Merlin hadn't been in such deadly trouble, and Arthur hadn't been so deadly earnest.
Still, Morgana had to suppress the urge to laugh, if only so she wouldn't scream. She'd forgotten to take Gaius' sleeping draught the night before, and images of Arthur being torn slowly apart by a creature so awful she didn't dare name it swirled in her head. She pressed her palms to her eyes in a vain attempt to scrub away the thoughts, and when she looked up, Uther was looking at her instead of Arthur.
"Do you have something to say?" he asked, low voice thrumming with the knowledge that she did have something to say. Morgana opened her mouth, but shook her head quickly. What could she say? That she had dreams, awful dreams, which sometimes came true? As much as she knew Uther had only the kingdom's best interests at heart, she also knew that where magic was concerned-- even something so incidental as a dream, although the dreams never felt merely incidental-- all common sense went out the window. Uther frowned at her and Morgana fancied that she could feel the pull of Uther's will, trying to force the information from her lips. She lifted her gaze again, meeting his eyes, and his frown deepened.
Uther turned back to his wayward son, and the argument started back up. Arthur was going, whether Uther liked it or not. Uther was going to throw Arthur in the dungeon. Neither would change their mind. Morgana stood, wearied suddenly by the exchange, and, ignoring Uther and Arthur's startled looks, fled to the safety of her room. Maybe she couldn't stop seeing Arthur die horribly, but at least she wouldn't be tempted to kill herself for him too.
Author: Sherlockian
Morgana knew something was wrong when Uther stopped talking. Uther never just stopped talking, not when there was even the slightest chance he could win the argument (even if he had to end it with "I'm the King and I say so.") He had fallen silent, chin on his hand, watching Arthur's posturing bravado. "I'm going to save Merlin," Arthur said, chin lifted and shoulders back. He looked, she mused absently, like a poppet someone had posed to look like the Perfect Hero. The over-exaggeration would have been funny if Merlin hadn't been in such deadly trouble, and Arthur hadn't been so deadly earnest.
Still, Morgana had to suppress the urge to laugh, if only so she wouldn't scream. She'd forgotten to take Gaius' sleeping draught the night before, and images of Arthur being torn slowly apart by a creature so awful she didn't dare name it swirled in her head. She pressed her palms to her eyes in a vain attempt to scrub away the thoughts, and when she looked up, Uther was looking at her instead of Arthur.
"Do you have something to say?" he asked, low voice thrumming with the knowledge that she did have something to say. Morgana opened her mouth, but shook her head quickly. What could she say? That she had dreams, awful dreams, which sometimes came true? As much as she knew Uther had only the kingdom's best interests at heart, she also knew that where magic was concerned-- even something so incidental as a dream, although the dreams never felt merely incidental-- all common sense went out the window. Uther frowned at her and Morgana fancied that she could feel the pull of Uther's will, trying to force the information from her lips. She lifted her gaze again, meeting his eyes, and his frown deepened.
Uther turned back to his wayward son, and the argument started back up. Arthur was going, whether Uther liked it or not. Uther was going to throw Arthur in the dungeon. Neither would change their mind. Morgana stood, wearied suddenly by the exchange, and, ignoring Uther and Arthur's startled looks, fled to the safety of her room. Maybe she couldn't stop seeing Arthur die horribly, but at least she wouldn't be tempted to kill herself for him too.
