HOW EASY SEEMS THE WISH SHE SPINS , a suggestion of a shared future together as if they could both reach out and grasp it. if only it was as simple as the soft words whispered between them, gentle but containing the power to change fate itself. merlin often wondered how far his magic reached, the limits of his abilities. could he perhaps utter a spell and transform the flow of life in one motion, make himself a noble, or the ruler of camelot itself ? words held POWER , and he could feel his own bubbling beneath the surface as though a volcano gathering momentum to erupt. that was perhaps the irony of it in a kingdom where magic was feared and persecuted, a volatile weapon had been concealed right in the heart of it.
were merlin a different person, he would have overturned kingdoms, altered the natural order of things, to be with the one he loved. but how would that make him any different from those that harboured ill - intent towards camelot ? merlin wanted to believe that, together with arthur, they were building a society more tolerable of magic and its users. he wanted to believe that his guidance was leading the king towards the DESTINED future. a land united, a freedom for those gifted. and perhaps it was the promise of this destiny that kept him by arthur’s side all these years, would likely keep him here for many more to come.
❛ you know i can’t. we can’t. ❜ and though he’s sure it’s far from what she wanted to hear, the way the words fall from his mouth are of a man tempted. he would be a fool to refuse such a proposition. it was merlin himself who had spent endless nights in an attempt to convince gwen that her station did not determine her value, that arthur had fallen in love with who she was rather anything material that she may bring to his rule. and yet now, here he was, going through exactly the same motions but failing to convince himself to jump headfirst into the UNKNOWN . destiny was not set in stone, after all. or was it ?
❛ mithian … ❜ the sound of her name upon his lips is gentle but firm, almost as if he was chastising her for the nonsense she seemed to want to believe. ❛ i look at you as i always did with admiration. i'm only sorry i wasn’t there to protect you from the start, that you had to go through so much - ❜ gaze wanders down towards the ghastly burn marks marring perfect skin, the bracelet that he had given her turned against him in cruel misuse. something that was meant to protect transformed into an object of TORTURE . the warlock can barely look the princess in the eye the betrayal was not hers, it was his. ❛ there’s something that i need to show you. it might change the way you think of me but i want you to see me for who i really am. ❜
𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐂𝐀𝐍'𝐓. Even if a day with particularly blue skies found Arthur feeling generous enough to let the most valuable of his subjects go , Merlin would never be destined to find a place as an embellishment in the pretty portrait that her father had long ago painted for her future , and yet that cannot stop Mithian from mourning the life that she had only ever allowed herself to pursue in harmless daydreams up until now ( perhaps for fear of consequences similar to those she was currently facing , for fear of being told no by the one soul her tender heart could not bear to be rejected by ; a mortal butterfly grounded ‘till death at the first && only Midas touch to its wings ) . We can’t , he says , and her chest aches . He can’t , and she knows that she will not ask this of him again .
It’s the careful call of her name that coaxes Mithian into lifting her heavy head once again . She listens , this time , observing the shape that each vowel takes as it tumbles from Merlin’s lips until the violent halt finally comes . She lets a moment pass in silence , and then two ; her eyes unreadable as she seeks out the keeper of the other’s attention . While she lacks the key to his freedom , Mithian is well - acquainted with workarounds , and comes armed with a firm gaze && a steady hand as she tucks a dainty finger beneath his chin . ❝ It is not your duty to protect me , Merlin , ❞ she asserts , worry knitting heavy lines between furrowed brows as she struggles to capture blue eyes for her own .
❝ This was no fault of your own . If it had not been for you , I I suspect my father would be dead . ❞ As well as Arthur , of course ( and herself , even though that particular possibility remains the least pressing fear in her thoughts ) . ❝ I put you in danger by reaching out to you . If anyone is to APOLOGISE , it should be me . ❞ It’s with this sentiment that her grip finally slips , hands resuming their previous movements of twisting nervously in her lap but she forces herself to maintain a level gaze ; though there’s a second , if brief , slip in her composure at the following statement that sounds across the space between them . ❝ Whatever it is . . . you can tell me . ❞
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