[ The house was quiet since he left. Morgana remembers it all as long hours that mix together in her head. Her face pressed into Merlin's shoulder blade as she wept and the way he looked, the way they all looked, lost, as if their sense of path was stolen from them and it was. Arthur was Merlin's best friend, he was Lancelot's prince and commander and he was her brother. An anchor for them all that has been taken away.
Only Morgana mourned for something quite else. She wept and lost sleep and neglected eating not only because Arthur left, but because of what it meant for them. He returned to her betrayal, to her letting him down and hurting him.
She had lost him and Nakama and her joy of life. There was no comfort to her in those hours, nothing but the certainty she will probably not see them again for a long time, if at all.
Which is why she thought she had lost her mind when she heard his voice, saw her face; not different, not truly but somehow older.
The crown in his hands freezes her heart. King, she thinks. Uther is gone, Arthur's father - her father? is dead. The King is dead. Long live the King. At once, she feels ill, remembers the worries she had when she heard of Uther's death and her betrayal.
Shall Arthur demand the price now?
But Arthur - because it is Arthur, flash and blood and real and alive and well, does not look angry, does not seem to seek her head. She hears his words but makes nothing of them. Not when she thinks Arthur, Arthur, thank the Gods, thank whichever God that allowed this.
She looks dreadful, there is no way around it. With red eyes and fresh tears, pale and scared for him and scared for herself and scared for them but she gathers her strength and moves down anyway, hears voices and steps as the house is revived back to life with his return. She is crying, of course she is, much as she was when he first arrived to Asgard.
She can't bear to say anything to him yet, to greet him or apologize or both, she just looks at him from the steps, shoulders shaking before she rushes forward to maybe knock the air out of him as she crashes into him, arms wrapping around his neck and her face pressed to his shoulders and this can never again, the Gods cannot do this to my heart again. ]
action; also this will be wordy, I can tell
Only Morgana mourned for something quite else. She wept and lost sleep and neglected eating not only because Arthur left, but because of what it meant for them. He returned to her betrayal, to her letting him down and hurting him.
She had lost him and Nakama and her joy of life. There was no comfort to her in those hours, nothing but the certainty she will probably not see them again for a long time, if at all.
Which is why she thought she had lost her mind when she heard his voice, saw her face; not different, not truly but somehow older.
The crown in his hands freezes her heart. King, she thinks. Uther is gone, Arthur's father - her father? is dead. The King is dead. Long live the King. At once, she feels ill, remembers the worries she had when she heard of Uther's death and her betrayal.
Shall Arthur demand the price now?
But Arthur - because it is Arthur, flash and blood and real and alive and well, does not look angry, does not seem to seek her head. She hears his words but makes nothing of them. Not when she thinks Arthur, Arthur, thank the Gods, thank whichever God that allowed this.
She looks dreadful, there is no way around it. With red eyes and fresh tears, pale and scared for him and scared for herself and scared for them but she gathers her strength and moves down anyway, hears voices and steps as the house is revived back to life with his return. She is crying, of course she is, much as she was when he first arrived to Asgard.
She can't bear to say anything to him yet, to greet him or apologize or both, she just looks at him from the steps, shoulders shaking before she rushes forward to maybe knock the air out of him as she crashes into him, arms wrapping around his neck and her face pressed to his shoulders and this can never again, the Gods cannot do this to my heart again. ]