Character/s: Merlin, Morgana
Summary: Merlin realizes he has a thing for Morgana at the worst possible time. Not fluff.
Word Count: 292
Prompt: At last
Author's Notes: I don't know what this is. At first it was going to be something coherent and contained and then it decided to be... something else. Well, what's the harm in being a tad experimental every now and again? *nervous smile*
For years he has known her and in the beginning he might have loved her. He might love her even more now -- he doesn't want to think about it but this moment is one of madness, a frenzied burst of unthought thoughts, savage suggestions of identity -- love her even more now that she merely dons the beauty of her past to hide the decaying present, the loss. So clear so sad loss refortifies love and how he longs for what has been lost, sitting there and not sitting there at once. Once -- or is it now? -- he had wanted to wrap her soft hands in his own calloused, comforting fingers, once he had daydreamt her lips and warm breath and a spill of dark hair for no reason at all, how he wants to press soft kisses to her pale throat now, her throat her throat her throat only lies and dark magic there now when will she just and finally she swallows.
Now the breath is catching in her throat. Her clenching pale throat. Gasping, gasping as at last the poison begins to take hold.
Her eyes on him wide with betrayal, sudden cruel understanding of what he has done, a lowly servant to the exquisite ward of the King, alone together in this room, even as the rest of her panics. She doesn't even know he has magic.
Yes. He had loved her. How sorry he is, how his heart is breaking. Wipes the tears from his eyes. Holds her close. He loves her still; loves her now more than ever. But there is no other way. But he had not helped her when he'd still had the chance. But this is a moment of slaughter.