lady_ragnell (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
lady_ragnell) wrote2011-07-29 02:04 pm
lady_ragnell) wrote2011-07-29 02:04 pm
Entry tags:
Request-a-Fic: Sigh No More
Title: Sigh No More
Wordcount: ~1300
Summary: Arthur may not be able to help Merlin, but he can at least keep him company for a little while. Set in the same 'verse as Live Unbruised.
Warnings: References to suicide. General angst. If I've missed something, please let me know.
A/N: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
archaeologist_d, and I hope you enjoy it. Title from Mumford and Sons "Sigh No More." As with the original, gen but with the pairing tag because it is very much about Merlin and Arthur and their relationship.
Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin.
Merlin is out on the battlement again, staring off the edge without seeing anything. Staring at the ground below. Arthur waits in the shadows, unwilling to interrupt his thoughts quite yet, but unwilling to go as well. Merlin is out here nearly every night that Arthur can’t force himself to sleep, staring in just this way, and Arthur isn’t fool enough to think they sleep the same nights. He also isn’t fool enough not to recognize the way Merlin’s gaze has moved to the stone where his hand is resting, though it makes him sick to think Merlin would even consider--
Arthur is moving forward before he makes the decision consciously, and Merlin jumps at the movement, his body turning before his eyes do--no, Merlin, nothing can be that bad, you idiot--and all of him tensing further when he sees Arthur. Once, he would have relaxed. “I thought I told you to get a sleeping draught,” Arthur calls over the space between them.
Merlin’s roll of the eyes could almost convince someone who didn’t know better that nothing’s wrong. “And I suppose you’d like me to sleep through bringing you your breakfast, then?”
“You do that anyway, you may as well get some rest out of it.” Arthur walks up to stand next to Merlin at the battlement again, even though each time he does the silences seem to get worse and worse. If he can’t make Merlin tell him what the matter is, at least he can keep vigil with him. “You were having nightmares again,” he offers, since he knows that much at least. “What do you dream about?”
Merlin hugs himself and takes a step back from the edge of the battlement. Arthur tries not to show his relief. “Things I could have done differently. So things wouldn’t have ended this way.”
Arthur snorts. “What you could have done?” He knows it’s the wrong thing to say before he’s even finished speaking, by the way Merlin’s mouth tightens up and his gaze goes back to the stones of the courtyard. “Nothing that happened was your responsibility.”
“It doesn’t mean I couldn’t have done anything, changed anything.” Merlin meets his eyes for the first time. “You said that I noticed something about Morgana. What if--what if I’d told?” He shakes his head, knowing as well as Arthur does that even if Arthur had believed him, Uther wouldn’t have. “Or what if I’d seen her going down that path from the start, and talked to her as a friend should instead of--instead of--”
“This is useless, Merlin.” Arthur clasps his shoulder. “You can’t change the past, and you’ll drive yourself mad if you try.” Merlin shakes his head. “Morgana--she started practicing magic, at some point, and fell in with Morgause. You couldn’t have stopped that, I know well how stubborn she is.”
Merlin’s voice is hoarse when he answers. “It wasn’t the magic.” Arthur starts, tries not to stare. That might be the most honesty he’s had from Merlin in weeks, if not months, even if it’s on the one subject Merlin should know better than to bring up. Merlin looks away before he can answer that. “And … I don’t know. I wish she hadn’t felt like she needed to go to Morgause.”
That’s one of Arthur’s regrets as well, though he keeps it well-buried most of the time. Morgana was his sister, by blood now as well as by choice. Surely she could have come to him, instead of blaming him for his father’s dishonesty. Surely, if she was unhappy before she disappeared, she could have at least told Guinevere? But then, he can’t blame her for her inability to talk to Gwen, when he was taking Gwen’s time. “It’s useless wasting time on regrets.”
“There are so many things I could have done differently,” whispers Merlin, like he expects Arthur not to hear, and turns away from Arthur’s hand on his shoulder to look at the courtyard again.
Once again, Arthur is not a fool. He knows that for every protestation Merlin makes that he’s an open book, that he has no secrets at all, there’s a look or an event or an unexplained coincidence that proves the opposite. Merlin’s been in the middle of too many inexplicable events for Arthur to ever believe Merlin as unimportant as they both pretend. “There are things I would change as well,” he says, as carefully as he can. “I would have told Morgana long ago how much I care for her, if it would have kept her with us. I’m sure there are a lot of things I would change, but I didn’t do them, and we’ve just got to make the best of the results of the mistakes we’ve made.” A skill his father still hasn’t learned, but Arthur shoves that thought away.
“What’s happened … it’s not the result of your mistakes, Arthur.”
“But it is of yours?” Arthur rolls his eyes, but he recognizes the tone of Merlin’s voice, after as many years as they’ve been together. This is Merlin saying something he’s meant to take seriously. He can’t pay much attention to that, though, when Merlin is wrapping tighter around himself, shivering and staring out over the courtyard again.
He doesn’t know how to coax Merlin back to life, certainly can’t take away his nightmares, and he can’t even begin to try if Merlin doesn’t trust him--and Merlin doesn’t. He may not know exactly what’s brought Merlin to this point, but he does know that he’ll never be trusted with the answer to that question, and that Merlin will never acknowledge he’s even thought of it. Maybe not even to himself. It makes Arthur want to shake him, to take him on the training field and beat him until he breaks and admits something, but he knows it won’t do any good. If Merlin doesn’t trust him after this long it’s unlikely he ever will.
“You should be in bed,” says Merlin, the same way he has at some point every night Arthur’s come to watch over him.
“So should you,” Arthur answers by rote. “You’ve got to bring my breakfast in the morning, after all. Can’t have you oversleeping after you finally get yourself to bed.”
“I’ll probably still be awake.”
Arthur can rebuild a city that his sister (his sister) ripped apart. He can make commoners knights and steel himself against his ailing father’s anger to keep them knighted. He can kiss a serving girl where all the world can see. The one thing he can’t do, it seems, is to fix his manservant, to stop whatever it is that’s hurting him so. “Go. Try to sleep. And if you can’t, read a book or something. You’ll catch a chill up here, with autumn coming. In fact, you probably shouldn’t come out here again until spring.” Because Arthur is just beginning to sleep better again, and he can’t stand the thought that the night it all gets to be too much at last might be a night when he’s actually sleeping.
Merlin shakes his head, but his expression is a little lighter. “Yes, sire. Are you going to bed as well?”
He won’t sleep, but he’s asking Merlin to make a sacrifice of sorts now, to go back to nightmares that have been bothering him for weeks. He can make a sacrifice himself, and spend the night staring at his walls and not wandering the castle. It won’t be the last night they have a discussion like this, after all. “Yes, fine, you ninny, I’m going to bed.”
They walk inside together.
Wordcount: ~1300
Summary: Arthur may not be able to help Merlin, but he can at least keep him company for a little while. Set in the same 'verse as Live Unbruised.
Warnings: References to suicide. General angst. If I've missed something, please let me know.
A/N: Written for
archaeologist_d, and I hope you enjoy it. Title from Mumford and Sons "Sigh No More." As with the original, gen but with the pairing tag because it is very much about Merlin and Arthur and their relationship.Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin.
Merlin is out on the battlement again, staring off the edge without seeing anything. Staring at the ground below. Arthur waits in the shadows, unwilling to interrupt his thoughts quite yet, but unwilling to go as well. Merlin is out here nearly every night that Arthur can’t force himself to sleep, staring in just this way, and Arthur isn’t fool enough to think they sleep the same nights. He also isn’t fool enough not to recognize the way Merlin’s gaze has moved to the stone where his hand is resting, though it makes him sick to think Merlin would even consider--
Arthur is moving forward before he makes the decision consciously, and Merlin jumps at the movement, his body turning before his eyes do--no, Merlin, nothing can be that bad, you idiot--and all of him tensing further when he sees Arthur. Once, he would have relaxed. “I thought I told you to get a sleeping draught,” Arthur calls over the space between them.
Merlin’s roll of the eyes could almost convince someone who didn’t know better that nothing’s wrong. “And I suppose you’d like me to sleep through bringing you your breakfast, then?”
“You do that anyway, you may as well get some rest out of it.” Arthur walks up to stand next to Merlin at the battlement again, even though each time he does the silences seem to get worse and worse. If he can’t make Merlin tell him what the matter is, at least he can keep vigil with him. “You were having nightmares again,” he offers, since he knows that much at least. “What do you dream about?”
Merlin hugs himself and takes a step back from the edge of the battlement. Arthur tries not to show his relief. “Things I could have done differently. So things wouldn’t have ended this way.”
Arthur snorts. “What you could have done?” He knows it’s the wrong thing to say before he’s even finished speaking, by the way Merlin’s mouth tightens up and his gaze goes back to the stones of the courtyard. “Nothing that happened was your responsibility.”
“It doesn’t mean I couldn’t have done anything, changed anything.” Merlin meets his eyes for the first time. “You said that I noticed something about Morgana. What if--what if I’d told?” He shakes his head, knowing as well as Arthur does that even if Arthur had believed him, Uther wouldn’t have. “Or what if I’d seen her going down that path from the start, and talked to her as a friend should instead of--instead of--”
“This is useless, Merlin.” Arthur clasps his shoulder. “You can’t change the past, and you’ll drive yourself mad if you try.” Merlin shakes his head. “Morgana--she started practicing magic, at some point, and fell in with Morgause. You couldn’t have stopped that, I know well how stubborn she is.”
Merlin’s voice is hoarse when he answers. “It wasn’t the magic.” Arthur starts, tries not to stare. That might be the most honesty he’s had from Merlin in weeks, if not months, even if it’s on the one subject Merlin should know better than to bring up. Merlin looks away before he can answer that. “And … I don’t know. I wish she hadn’t felt like she needed to go to Morgause.”
That’s one of Arthur’s regrets as well, though he keeps it well-buried most of the time. Morgana was his sister, by blood now as well as by choice. Surely she could have come to him, instead of blaming him for his father’s dishonesty. Surely, if she was unhappy before she disappeared, she could have at least told Guinevere? But then, he can’t blame her for her inability to talk to Gwen, when he was taking Gwen’s time. “It’s useless wasting time on regrets.”
“There are so many things I could have done differently,” whispers Merlin, like he expects Arthur not to hear, and turns away from Arthur’s hand on his shoulder to look at the courtyard again.
Once again, Arthur is not a fool. He knows that for every protestation Merlin makes that he’s an open book, that he has no secrets at all, there’s a look or an event or an unexplained coincidence that proves the opposite. Merlin’s been in the middle of too many inexplicable events for Arthur to ever believe Merlin as unimportant as they both pretend. “There are things I would change as well,” he says, as carefully as he can. “I would have told Morgana long ago how much I care for her, if it would have kept her with us. I’m sure there are a lot of things I would change, but I didn’t do them, and we’ve just got to make the best of the results of the mistakes we’ve made.” A skill his father still hasn’t learned, but Arthur shoves that thought away.
“What’s happened … it’s not the result of your mistakes, Arthur.”
“But it is of yours?” Arthur rolls his eyes, but he recognizes the tone of Merlin’s voice, after as many years as they’ve been together. This is Merlin saying something he’s meant to take seriously. He can’t pay much attention to that, though, when Merlin is wrapping tighter around himself, shivering and staring out over the courtyard again.
He doesn’t know how to coax Merlin back to life, certainly can’t take away his nightmares, and he can’t even begin to try if Merlin doesn’t trust him--and Merlin doesn’t. He may not know exactly what’s brought Merlin to this point, but he does know that he’ll never be trusted with the answer to that question, and that Merlin will never acknowledge he’s even thought of it. Maybe not even to himself. It makes Arthur want to shake him, to take him on the training field and beat him until he breaks and admits something, but he knows it won’t do any good. If Merlin doesn’t trust him after this long it’s unlikely he ever will.
“You should be in bed,” says Merlin, the same way he has at some point every night Arthur’s come to watch over him.
“So should you,” Arthur answers by rote. “You’ve got to bring my breakfast in the morning, after all. Can’t have you oversleeping after you finally get yourself to bed.”
“I’ll probably still be awake.”
Arthur can rebuild a city that his sister (his sister) ripped apart. He can make commoners knights and steel himself against his ailing father’s anger to keep them knighted. He can kiss a serving girl where all the world can see. The one thing he can’t do, it seems, is to fix his manservant, to stop whatever it is that’s hurting him so. “Go. Try to sleep. And if you can’t, read a book or something. You’ll catch a chill up here, with autumn coming. In fact, you probably shouldn’t come out here again until spring.” Because Arthur is just beginning to sleep better again, and he can’t stand the thought that the night it all gets to be too much at last might be a night when he’s actually sleeping.
Merlin shakes his head, but his expression is a little lighter. “Yes, sire. Are you going to bed as well?”
He won’t sleep, but he’s asking Merlin to make a sacrifice of sorts now, to go back to nightmares that have been bothering him for weeks. He can make a sacrifice himself, and spend the night staring at his walls and not wandering the castle. It won’t be the last night they have a discussion like this, after all. “Yes, fine, you ninny, I’m going to bed.”
They walk inside together.
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Loved this line especially...
If Merlin doesn’t trust him after this long it’s unlikely he ever will.
Because it just makes the whole situation that much sadder.
Thank you so much and feel free to continue to visit this universe. I want to fix them so badly!
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But I'd really love if you could fix them in some way, because leaving them like that saddens me a lot.
Thank you!
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MErlin for suffereing so and not bewing able to eall anyone an d
Arthur for wanting to help but not knowin how (even if he has an incling about Merlins ablilities)
Beautiful and sad fic.
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As for Merlin, he had so many regrets, specially the scenarios where things would have gone better, I hope you write something else with them being truthful to each other.
Thanks for writing this!! be well!!!
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