whynot | They make me push the pram a lot.

Entry tags:

They make me push the pram a lot.

Prince Arthur = fanon Draco? He's not a bad guy, just an asshole with an angst-ton of daddy issues who is full of himself. He's a little misguided, having a sociopath for a father, but he's not stupid and his heart is true. Really, all he needs is someone to help redeem him and guide him, someone who calls him out on his bullshit, ~~and also some buttsex,~~ and he will do great things.

OKAY SO. Was it just that I had been drinking all night before (and, uh, during) watching THE BEGINNING OF THE END (omg), or was the plot actually... compelling? Arthur's face (OMG HIS FACE <3333) isn't even the only redeeming thing, nor was the hoyay redeeming, being KIND OF NONEXISTENT. BBC WHERE IS OUR GAY. BUT. On to the hooray. Threats to kill dangerous children! Morgana kicking so much ass! Arthur being all noble and taking care of kingly business, and also saving people (who aren't even Merlin)! Capable and valiant Arthur is my favorite!

I was watching it with my friend, to whom I had been building up the hoyay sooooooo much. I felt fairly cheated when, AGAIN, IT WAS NOT THERE. But then she brought up a good point: "I'm feeling lots of Uther/Morgana here." UH, YEAH. It is kind of a creepy ship, but since when has being creepy ever stopped me doing anything. Uther/Morgana and its power games and mindfuckery, oh I would read it.

WHICH BRINGS ME TO MY NEXT POINT. MERLIN/MORGANA. ALL OVER THE PLACE. I... think I like it?! Merlin and Morgana, fighting injustice and keeping their boundless magical powers a secret OR ELSE THEY WOULD DIE. 'Kay, I don't do official recs anymore 'cos ya'll should just check out my delicious, but while we're on this subject, there is awesome Merlin/Morgana fic this way.

Arthur/Morgana/Merlin: best thing or BESTEST THING?

My friend called the kid being Mordred. I kind of didn't figure it out until ten seconds before the revelation. Ya, even with the episode title and all.

Can we really not escape our destinies? This show is so fucking campy, I have a hard time imagining the tragic endgame that we all know is to come.

Why are my best-beloved fandoms British-esque and set in the past? "Write what you know", I'm doing it wrong.

The internet gave my computer herpes because I was superdumb and looked for Episode 8 in some seriously sketchy sites. A typo-ridden message keeps on offering to download spyware for me, and sometimes it starts to before I'm like OH NO YOU DON'T. I think have gotten rid of everything except the .dll file, because I can't delete it if it is in use... YEAH, I DON'T WANT IT TO BE. So I guess I'm going to the IT helpdesk tomorrow.

ETA: I've changed my Merlin icon for completely superficial reasons.

Son of ETA:

kingandward, an Uther/Morgana community. THAT'S RIGHT.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

MERLIN/MORGANA, I AM NOT ALONE IN THE UNIVERSE. OR AT LEAST IN THE SHIPPERY OF BAD BRITISH TELEVISION. I agree with the creepiness of Uther/Morgana but creepy not technically bad?

I haven't watched episode eight yet, so I have no idea how they're going to sneak Mordred into the plot but wait, isn't he supposed to be Arthur's lovebaby? Arthur's inbred psychologically-fucked lovebaby? *is intrigued*

I blame every fandom I am currently in on Narnia. Back in the day, I wrote about skinny boys who play guitar and fondle each other on stage and NOW LOOK WHAT I'VE BECOME.

everyone in merlin seems to want to sleep with each other! except arthur and gwen?! OH SHOW.

there is an uther/morgana community out already!

YEAH DUDE SAME HERE. i sort of wrote fic before discovering fandom, and i discovered the winning fic/fandom combination through, uh, weezer. waaaaaay back in the day, when ffnet still allowed nc17 rps.

Well, because Arthur is too busy trying to please daddy and Gwen is spending all her time figuring out how to find herself in the middle of a Merlin and Morgana sandwich. Ohmanthatneedstobewritten.

Weezer has/had fic?!

I am just SO SAD that Mordred isn't Arthur and Morgana's lovebaby, because dude, y'all have to love the canon incest lovebabies with daddy issues that lead to the downfall of a kingdom. HOW COULD BBC IGNORE THAT?

But seriously, this is, like, epic tragedy. Arthur's tragic flaw! Merlin's other tragic flaw! THE END IS COMING! You cannot escape your destiny!

Hot damn, and YET.

Also, I want Arthur/Susan and Lucy/Gwen. *apologetic*

merlin/gwen/morgana is pretty much canon. weezer had fic! there are a couple i wrote in my memories, but oh dude, sometimes i miss the Bands section of ffnet (covered by mary sues though it was). the cure fic! u2 fic! ben folds five fic! (okay so i was the only lame-o writing ben folds five fic, but still.)

i mean, it went and ignored a hell of a lot of other things.

i have difficulty reconciling the tragic end with the mess of flail that the show is now! i'm half-expecting BBC to be make them all live happily ever after, even when mordred doesn't die. make some statement about how you make your own destiny.

oh dude, susan/morgana. speaking of crackovers, i'll get to cross and grail, uh, sometime this week?

yes, but the EPIC TRAGEDY.

oh, i know. i think half the thrill is that everybody knows how it's going to end, so some of the injokes are just -- oh, you know, like gwen being all, "i will never have to choose between lancelot and arthur! don't be ridiculous." but there are points when it just hurts, and merlin walking himself into the end is just...*flails wildly* but me and tragedy, you know.

SUSAN AND MORGANA. YES.

(you know, a few years after crosstree and grail, when they're all, "hey, narnia's coming by again," and arthur expects it to be peter and edmund, and instead it's peter's gorgeous younger sister, and morgana and susan are sizing each other up and arthur is like, "i am hoping for a catfight YES I AM," and then walks in to see susan and morgana commisserating over stupid men and glasses of wine.)

the cure fic?! jesus, i feel like i have missed out on an essential part of life.

and there were metric tons of green day and blink 182 fics for sure. she wrote my favorite the cure fics (http://love.less.as), back in the day.

there is probz that scene where arthur approaches susan from behind and thinks it's morgana until susan turns around and arthur is like OH PARDON ME. and then they flirt. at some point she'll probably be like, "you remind me of my brother." which may or may not, you know, weird arthur out a bit when later they start DOING IT.

UMMM SUSAN/MORGANA/ARTHUR: bestestestest?!

OMG YES. (susan/arthur/peter?)

and arthur is nothing if not amused by the fact that susan carries a bow and quiver until they're on a hunt, and the boar startles her horse into throwing her in its panic. on her feet, alone, with the boar charging at her, susan draws bow and arrow, as calm as if she's sitting in her bower.

arthur cannot reach her in time. the world seems to slow and stop.

she draws, looses, has another arrow in her hand almost before the first is in the air; there are three buried in the boar's chest and a fourth between its eyes when it falls to the ground practically at susan's feet and the world has started again, the ground shockingly hard beneath arthur's boots as he vaults from his horse's back, his sword in his hand.

susan leans down and pulls her arrows free, straight out and not twisting them, and cleans the on the sleeve of her gown before replacing them in her quiver. she turns and smiles at arthur. "i can," she says, "take care of myself, your highness."

<33 YAY

hell, arthur/susan/morgana/peter. everyone in both narnia and camelot are already sleeping with each other anyway. edmund/morgana: DELICIOUS.

"i thought you would know by now, sire," susan muses, "not to underestimate narnia."

and arthur is disinclined to reply, because susan is right, and also because now doesn't seem like the most opportune time for chitchat, what with trying to get her dress off and all. his mouth on her neck tasting the bitterness of her perfume. he's a little busy.

"uh-huh," arthur mumbles, before the world suddenly turns upside down and he finds himself winded on his back, the queen of narnia astride him, taking her dress off herself.

uhhhh, i should add an LJ interest that says 'throwing arthur to the bed'?

HOORAH WE ARE AT IT AGAIN.

also OMG YES PLEASE. to everything.

"you're up late," morgana says. she closes the door behind her.

edmund sets his quill aside. "so are you," he notes, looking up at her. "something i can do for you, my lady?"

morgana reaches behind her, struggling to get at the ties of her dress, and edmund gets up. "let me help you," he says, and his fingers are quick and light on her back, her waist, his breath warm against her neck. he doesn't ask why she's here. he says, "i've done this for my sisters back at cair paravel."

morgana turns around to face him, holding her dress up at the shoulders. "have you done this for your sisters?" she asks, and lets her dress fall to the floor as she kisses him. they're of a height, and edmund doesn't have to bend his head to kiss her back, his mouth warm and sure against hers.

"you might be surprised," he murmurs into her skin, faintly bemused, as his hands settle onto her hips.

hmm. merlin/lucy?

OR HOW ABOUT

for one so young, she carries herself with the surefootedness that would border on arrogance if it weren't for the easy way she laughs and her willingness to be thrilled and delighted by the world. uther is inexplicably reminded of a tale from the far east a wandering bard once told about a holy man who left a trail of lotus flowers where his feet touched the ground.

"it is a pleasure and an honor," says uther. "your siblings speak highly of you."

queen lucy smiles. "and of you and yours also."

when he bends to kiss her hand, he is surprised to touch the calluses of both a swordsman and an archer. what strange women they have in narnia. the back of her hand is soft and uther finds himself undone by the smallness of her fingers, the play of the sunlight in her hair.

YEAH THAT'S RIGHT.

OH MY.

huh. i feel that the pevensies have all gone to camelot, let us bring someone to cair paravel!

the first time he sets foot on narnian soil, merlin stumbles and nearly falls, and gwen catches his elbow to steady him. arthur, up ahead with morgana and queen lucy, doesn't notice, and merlin's glad of it, because this -- this --

the magic is so rich in the air that he can smell it, hear it, feel it, taste it, a subtle interplay of the senses that leaves him wrung out and wanting more.

"are you all right?" gwen hisses in his ear, and merlin can't help the grin that bursts forth on his face.

"never been better," he says, and means it with all his heart.

"my greatest apologies," queen susan says later, looking down on them from the dais in the great throne room of cair paravel, her sister at her left hand and two empty thrones on her right. "my brothers the high king peter and king edmund had hoped to be here to meet you, but they were called away unexpectedly; there is trouble on our southern border, and they hope to end it before it grows greater."

arthur smiles in understanding. "i know a little of border squabbles, your highness," he says. "there is no offense taken."

later: "this is a strange land you have here," he says to susan as they walk amidst the gardens of cair paravel. there are few men here -- few inhabitants of the castle at all, it would seem; though everything is taken care of with as great or better care than in camelot, while his castle bustles with life, cair paravel seems oddly silent, as though its inhabitants are gone, or hiding. a leopard paces along, susan's hand light on its head, and he is reminded of the animals that always came with these narnian kings to camelot. there are even more of them here.

susan smiles. "i fear we have been somewhat less than truthful to you, your highness," she says, voice rich with bemusement. "but i think you will understand why."

the first time merlin sees aslan, he feels he should do a number of things at once: kneel, run away, be silent, magic the lion away with some thaumaturgical blast, not use magic at all. he ends up just standing there with his mouth hanging open.

he's not entirely surprised when the lion begins to speak to him. he thinks, in quick succession: 1) i should tell gaius!, 2) should i tell morgana?, and 3) not again.

someone should write the fic where aslan and the dragon try to out-inscrutable each either.

"no one is ever told any story but their own," aslan intones.

"a half cannot truly hate its other half," the dragon drawls.

they narrow their eyes at each other.

in an alternate version, they trade tips.

honeybaby, that sound you just heard was my brain exploding.

let us go back to the sexings!

"oh, this is nice," susan says, laughing over her goblet. "there aren't very many women in cair paravel -- myself, my sister lucy, some of the servants and the nobles' wives, whoever peter's engaged to at the moment --"

morgana smiles at her over her own goblet, tasting the wine on her lips. it's stained susan's red, or maybe it's the paint she's wearing, and she wants to taste it to see. "it's not that easy," she admits. "not when you outrank all the others."

"narnia's different, though," susan says. "i think you'd like it."

"i think i would," morgana agrees. she takes a sip of wine to hide the longing that must be clear on her face -- god, what she wouldn't do to leave camelot! it's one petty squabble after another, and it wears on her uther's paranoia, arthur's arrogance, the same thing week after week. what it must be like to live somewhere else, to travel -- to be a woman like susan of narnia, with the world in the palm of her hand.

SEXINGS IT IS

morgana's restlessness touches susan. she recognizes it, wishes she could assure her, but knows from past experience that words only make the necessary sentiments sound trite and childish. morgana will need to find her own path, and susan knows she will.

+

"you miss your brothers?"

"of course. but i have my sister, and we all have our duties."

the queens wear their smiles as easily as they wear their crowns, and morgana envies them for it, is suddenly and acutely aware of how inured she has become to secrets, to being a stranger to uther while he loves her completely, and to have the ability to bend arthur to her will while at the same time keeping him at arm's length because of the smoke-like wisps of warnings in her dreams that tell her what she is not meant to be, what she is not meant to have.

+

her dreams tell her many things, that even as she loses herself in queen susan's arms, it feels familiar. she has been here before.

susan kisses her like edmund does: slow and sweet and a patience that hints at so much more to come.

+

morgana kisses her like peter does: like there is nothing else.

+

"i love the sea," morgana whispers in a reverent tone, uncaring of the wet sand that sticks to her dress, the waves that lap at her shoes. there is nothing like this back in camelot and her wonder is writ on her face, making her beautiful.

susan replies, "it's easy to love what seems endless."

they make their way down the shoreline, talking in low tones of inconsequential things, and behind them the waves wash their footprints away as if they were never there at all.

OH MORGANA. this is become, like, actual fic! (AGAIN. *flaily hands*)

arthur is in shock, which would be more amusing if he had someone to distract him, ground him in what he can recognize in reality. merlin can't do so, because this, this -- and arthur doesn't seem to notice.

he doesn't know where arthur spends his days, but he spends his soaking up narnia, soaking up the magic that clings to the land and the air and the water and the castle itself: this is a land of magic like albion can never be. he finds himself learning to read the stars from centaurs, the dances of fauns, speaking to selkies and mermaids on the seashore, laughing with dryads and naiads and oceanids.

"do you like narnia?" queen lucy asks while he's browsing amidst cair paravel's library, and merlin fumbles the book he's holding. it catches in mid-air and he grabs for it, a sharp flush of panic spreading over his face; magic comes easier to him here than it ever has in camelot. he doesn't need to think about it; it acts on its own.

she smiles at him, open and friendly and seemingly uncaring about his latest display of gifts he should not have.

"yes," merlin says after a minute. "yes, i do, very much. i've never seen anything like it."

"there is nothing like it," lucy says, and takes the book from his hand, replaces it on the shelf. she takes his hand in her callused one. "there has been a raven from my brothers; they are riding back on the lionsroad. do you want to go and meet them? there is more to narnia than just cair paravel."

"arthur --" merlin begins.

"we have servants of our own," lucy grins. "don't fear your prince; he shall be well accounted for. but i," she adds meaningfully, pulling him closer, "want some time with you. i think you love this place as much as i do, and i would you saw more of it."

"all right," merlin agrees, a little dazed, and lets lucy lead him out of the library and down cair paravel's wide, sundrenched halls to the stables.

for all of five minutes, arthur lets himself believe his father never has to know. they were a short five minutes indeed and he falls back on wondering how to break the news to his father in such a way that he will not then try to trounce narnia for the Greater Good. he isn't like his father; arthur knows not all magic is evil, feels this to be true as he looks upon the narnian landscape and queen susan's gentle smile.

+

he continues to let merlin think he doesn't notice when his eyes flash gold.

+

"your majesty!" peter calls out, full of the high spirits of victory. whatever was happening at the southern borders is now apparently not.

the high king strides to him as arthur bows, grasps the prince's forearm and throws his arm around him in familiar embrace. arthur stumbles; he is slowly becoming acclimatized to the familiarity of the narnian court, but such displays still faze him, more used to a court that is demure under uther's steely glare.

"i take it it went well on your southern borders," says arthur.

"as well as can be expected," peter replies with a shrug, his arm still on arthur's shoulder. "the calormene are tricky bastards, they'll be up to something soon enough. lu's told me there's to be a banquet later?"

"yes, in the evening--"

"much too late," peter cuts in. "ask one of the servants for a bottle of wine, your majesty, and meet my brother and i in the field beyond the garden."

he pats arthur's back in a good-natured sort of manner, and is off.

*stares at thread*

omg yessssssssssss

(Someone is sending me Merlin episodes very soon. Because I um. Might have started writing fic for it SIGHT UNSEEN. I am trying to restrain myself until I have actually watched the canon, but paragraphs keep appearing anyway.)

you can watch 'em on sidereel (http://www.sidereel.com/Merlin)! and also here: http://merlin-streaming.blogspot.com/

which one was that? where he decides to let mordred live? ya i guess i can see that, but i've just been so spoiled by things like FASTER ARTHUR FASTER.

YOU TWO. You slay me.

I don't even know the series- this morgana person isn't quite Morgan le Fay, is she? But, damn, it feels right. (and by right I mean *hot)

with the return of the army and the high king, cair paravel is a riot of color and laughter, and gwen finds herself nearly swallowed up as she wanders amidst it.

she's special here, unusual and exotic and foreign -- not just because she's from camelot, but because she's human. "what will uther say when he finds out?" she'd asked morgana once.

"i don't know and i don't care," morgana had replied, full of high spirits, her eyes on the ocean beyond the window. "i don't mean to go back to camelot."

"but my lady --" gwen had protested, but morgana rose and was gone. gwen hadn't seen her the rest of the day, or queen susan either.

cair paravel has gone from being nearly empty to being full to bursting overnight, and everywhere gwen goes she finds people laughing, talking, making love. uther's dire predictions aside -- and what will he say when arthur or morgana tells him, because they can't keep this a secret -- narnia does not seem like an evil land; it seems like one more full of life than anything gwen's ever known.

"the army will not stay here forever," a gentle voice says, and gwen drops the stack of towels she's carrying as one of narnia's creatures steps out of an alcove.

"i'm so sorry," she murmurs, bending immediately to pick them up, and the faun goes down beside her. he holds out the last towel for her.

"my name is tumnus," he says as they rise to their feet. "i am a friend of queen lucy's."

in other words, chances are very good that he more than outranks her, but she hasn't quite figured out narnia's system of rank and privilege and nobility yet. "i'm gwen," she says. "guinevere, really, but everyone calls me gwen. i'm lady morgana's maidservant, i came from camelot."

"why, then, my lady," tumnus says, catching one hand as she balances the towels in the curve of her opposite arm. he presses his lips to the air above it. "narnia is honored to have you."

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 1 of 3

They make me push the pram a lot.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject