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Merlin: futurefic
Written for the prompt "For you I'd burn the length and breadth of sky" at Memetime with Mordred & Morgana. PG13, 285 words. Futurefic. Mordred and Merlin are determined to end each other, and Morgana is determined to stop them.
But by the time Morgana gets there it is too late. Mordred and Merlin approach from opposite sides of the clearing, the magic already crackling off their fingers and glowing in their eyes. She feels the shockwaves in her bones -- shockwaves that haven't happened yet but will very soon, and she runs. She pushes the future out of her mind and she runs, summoning her own magic, and she thinks please please please please please.
"Mordred!" she cries out. "Merlin, stop it!"
As if it would do any good. Mordred yells his curse and Merlin does too, and she can taste the acridity of their revenge in the air.
The last thing she sees before she stops resolutely in the line of fire is the look of horror on Mordred's face. In the sliver of time between one moment and the next, between life and death, Morgana rips her spirit open and takes their magic in her, redirecting it at the sky. Her vision is full of flames and her bones threaten to break apart, but her footing is steady and her arms are open to the heavens as if to embrace it. The sky turns red, gold, bronze: it is a roiling sea, it will consume her. It seems to last forever, yet at some point the world falls silent once more, and Morgana falls to her knees.
In the distance, Merlin stares at her, shocked. In the distance, Mordred is running. He is calling her name. Morgana collapses on the grass and lets unconsciousness claim her, and the last thing she remembers before everything goes black is Mordred's arms around her and his brittle-voiced promise that everything is going to be fine.
But by the time Morgana gets there it is too late. Mordred and Merlin approach from opposite sides of the clearing, the magic already crackling off their fingers and glowing in their eyes. She feels the shockwaves in her bones -- shockwaves that haven't happened yet but will very soon, and she runs. She pushes the future out of her mind and she runs, summoning her own magic, and she thinks please please please please please.
"Mordred!" she cries out. "Merlin, stop it!"
As if it would do any good. Mordred yells his curse and Merlin does too, and she can taste the acridity of their revenge in the air.
The last thing she sees before she stops resolutely in the line of fire is the look of horror on Mordred's face. In the sliver of time between one moment and the next, between life and death, Morgana rips her spirit open and takes their magic in her, redirecting it at the sky. Her vision is full of flames and her bones threaten to break apart, but her footing is steady and her arms are open to the heavens as if to embrace it. The sky turns red, gold, bronze: it is a roiling sea, it will consume her. It seems to last forever, yet at some point the world falls silent once more, and Morgana falls to her knees.
In the distance, Merlin stares at her, shocked. In the distance, Mordred is running. He is calling her name. Morgana collapses on the grass and lets unconsciousness claim her, and the last thing she remembers before everything goes black is Mordred's arms around her and his brittle-voiced promise that everything is going to be fine.