#rip nimueh her death was so bad

[lesbian-vampyres]

headcanon that merlin’s body glows when he uses strong magic. additionally could be when he feels emotions really strongly because he is sooo emotional and i think the magic would mirror him in its own ways

[tyrseward]

a shared secret

Word Count: 2531 Warnings: None Summary: “It’s my fault you’re in here, but I won’t let you be executed in my place. I won’t.” // An AU of s01e03: The Mark of Nimueh.

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“It’s my fault you’re in here, but I won’t let you be executed in my place. I won’t.”

Merlin rushes off, barely giving Gwen the chance to process his words before he’s gone. She’s left wide eyed, staring at the wall as she puts together every strange thing Merlin has ever said, ever done. It fits into a picture Gwen isn’t sure she wants to see.

But her father is alive, and her friend is the one to thank for that. She would give her life for her friend, she knows that, but what she fears most in this moment isn’t the pyre, much as that surprises her. No, she fears for her friend most of all.

Please don’t do anything foolish, she pleads, though the one she wishes would hear it is far from reach.

Gwen is pardoned. She cries.

She makes it all of five steps out of the throne room, the doors have barely shut, and she turns into Morgana’s ready and waiting arms and sobs. She isn’t sure how long they stay there, but the guards don’t mention it, pretend not to notice her bloodshot eyes and wet cheeks.

And when it’s all said and done, she goes home.

What else is she supposed to do? Linger in the castle when she can still remember how it felt to be dragged through the halls, how no one moved to help her even if they wished they could? She can’t. So, she goes home.

Her father cries when he sees her, scoops her into a hug and refuses to let go. She sheds a few tears of her own, but by now she’s already cried herself dry. Still, she returns her father’s embrace and takes comfort in the fact that she’s here now, in his arms and not the dungeon cell.

Even when they separate, they linger. Her father is never more than a few steps away, a constant presence that Gwen grounds herself with.

“You’re not working today, surely?”

Gwen pauses at the door, hand resting against the handle.

“I just want everything to go back to normal,” she says, pushing aside the fact that the normal she’s always had is no longer possible. “The sooner everything gets back to normal, the sooner I can forget it ever happened.”

“Alright.” Though her father agrees, she can hear the doubt in his voice. It comes from concern, nothing else, so she doesn’t let it bother her. “Well, make sure you’re home for dinner, at least. No working late.”

“Alright,” she echoes. “I’ll see you later.”

Morgana is surprised to see her. In fact, almost everyone is.

“I thought you’d take the day off. I did tell you that you could, didn’t I?” Morgana asks, fussing over her as she makes the bed. Gwen can’t help the small laugh that escapes her.

“I will be fine, my lady. I can hardly sit around at home all day.”

Morgana doesn’t respond at first, watching her carefully as she goes about the room doing the odd chore. Whatever the lady is looking for, she doesn’t find it.

“Just don’t overwork yourself, Gwen.”

“I won’t, my lady.”

But Morgana isn’t the only one to mention it, as much as Gwen wishes people wouldn’t bring it up.

“Do you want me to carry that for you, lass?” Gertrude, a kindly older woman asks as she passes her in the hall with a basket of laundry. “Certainly you could use a break.”

“No need,” Gwen assures her, grip on the basket tightening almost protectively. “Thank you, though.”

Other such offers follow her throughout the day, often accompanied by eyes that linger too long when they think she doesn’t notice.

By the end of the day, she wonders if it wouldn’t have been such a bad idea to take a day off, after all. Maybe then everyone could shift back into their form of normal sooner. She doubts it.

After wishing Morgana a goodnight, Gwen takes her leave. If she lingers too much longer, her father will worry. Well, more so than he already was.

“Have you seen Merlin at all recently?”

“Good morning to you, too, my lady,” Gwen says, stepping fully into Morgana’s chambers and shutting the door behind her. “And no, I haven’t. Why?”

Gwen imagines blue eyes turning gold, imagines Merlin hunched over a poultice as he whispers the words required to save her father’s life. She isn’t sure if she’s relieved she hasn’t seen him yet or concerned he hasn’t shown his face yet. A mix of both, if she’s honest.

“Well, considering all the trouble he went through trying to get you out of the dungeons, I figured he’d at least have checked in on you by now.” Morgana rises from her vanity, eyeing the tray of food Gwen placed on the table. The smirk in her voice is clear as day, and Gwen’s blood runs cold.

“What do you mean?”

“He barged into the council chambers and claimed he was the sorcerer and not you in front of Uther and all of the council. Arthur convinced them all that Merlin was making it up, so he’s fine, of course. But he truly cares for you, Gwen.” When she fails to answer, Morgana turns her gaze from the food to Gwen. “Gwen? Are you alright?”

“Yes,” Gwen answers faintly. “I’m fine.”

Merlin might not be, Gwen does not say, when I get my hands on him.

She doesn’t see Merlin for the rest of the day. A check in all of his usual spots proves useless, but Gaius tells her that Merlin plans to go herb picking tomorrow. Perfect time to have a private conversation.

So Gwen puts aside her curiosity on where Merlin has disappeared to for the rest of the day and plots out a picnic that spells out both “thank you” and “pull that stunt again and it won’t be death by the pyre you’ll have to worry about.”

That night, she tosses and turns in bed, anxious for the new day. By the time morning comes, Gwen can’t help but be relieved that she no longer needs to pretend to rest.

Her father has already left, having decided to head to the forge early to catch up on work he had fallen behind on while ill. Gwen is alone in the house and so she shamelessly rushes about, dressing and almost running out of her home without the picnic basket she put together before bed or leaving a note to her father that she’ll be home late.

Still, she manages to make it out of the house and to the edge of the woods in time to intercept Merlin in one piece. Well, mostly. Her sleeve caught on the door and ripped, but it’s small enough that Gwen doesn’t worry much. She can mend it easily.

“Gwen?” Merlin stands before her, eyes wide in surprise, though she can see the fear lurking below.

“Hello, Merlin,” she responds, biting her lip as everything she had planned to say flees her brain the instant she needs it. Eventually, she hefts the basket up a bit with a smile. “I thought it would be a good day for a picnic. It’s been a while.”

“It has,” he agrees, stepping forward hesitantly. “You sure you want to be alone out here with the big bad sorcerer?”

“There’s nothing big or bad about you.” As Gwen says it, she realizes it’s true. Her fear for her friend is still there, of course it is, but her nervousness about seeing him, her fear of him not being who she thought he was all disappears. Merlin may have managed to keep a rather large secret, but he hasn’t the heart for lying beyond what’s necessary. He never has, and it’s something Gwen had always loved about him.

“Really?” Merlin’s question drags her back from her wandering thoughts, a not-quite-hopeful smile creeping ever so slowly across his face.

“Well,” she says, frowning as she recalls what Morgana had told her, “maybe it was rather bad of you to be yelling about having magic in front of King Uther and all his council.”

“Someone told you about that?” Merlin asks sheepishly. When Gwen’s frown deepens, he shrugs. “It was my fault you were in there. I wasn’t about to let you die because of something I did.”

It’s not the answer Gwen wants, but it’s the best she will get. Still, maybe it’s best to let this pass and tuck it into the back of her mind so she can stop him from repeating that almost fatal mistake in the future.

“I’d still rather not watch you burn.”

Merlin nods, not quite meeting her eyes.

“And Merlin? Maybe your ears, as well.”

That startles a laugh out of him, and she can’t help but join in. The tension between them eases with the sound. Not completely, not when there’s still much left to be said, but it’s enough.

Gwen smiles as she watches her friend wipe laughter tears from his eyes, and reaches out a hand.

“Well, come on, we should find a place to sit before noon has come and passed us already.”

“Good idea.” Merlin takes her hand and if he holds on a bit tighter than normal, well, it would be a bit hypocritical of her to point it out.

They don’t mention the magic again. Not until long after they’ve settled down on the grass in the clearing they somehow always end up in when they go to the woods.

The picnic basket lies empty and just out of reach, the remaining crumbs of food surrendered to the ants. Gwen watches as one ant heaves a particularly large crumb of bread away, toying with her ripped sleeve.

“I know why you didn’t tell me.”

The grass rustles beside her as Merlin pushes himself up into a sit.

“I understand. I do, really, but…”

“But you still wish I’d told you?”

Gwen turns to him and hesitates. Eventually, she answers, “yes.”

He doesn’t say anything to that, there’s nothing he really can say. They both know why he didn’t tell her, both know that it was a perfectly good reason.

That doesn’t stop her from wishing he’d told her before.

“Show me something?” Gwen asks after a few moments of quiet. Then Merlin turns to her and she realizes what she said. “Not that you have to! But if you want to, of course, you could do something.”

She winces at her words, an apology working its way to her lips as he stares at her with an unreadable expression. Before she can speak, however, Merlin rests a hand against her torn sleeve and whispers a spell.

“Sîwian clâð.”

The frayed threads of her sleeve reconnect and weave themselves back together, and Gwen can’t quite look away. She does, just for a moment, to see Merlin’s golden eyes fading back to blue and his satisfied smile as he watched his handiwork, but watching the spell in process is mesmerizing.

“Thank you,” she says once the rip is fully mended, examining the cloth closely. “You can’t even tell it was ever torn.”

“Yeah, well, I have a bit of practice with that one,” Merlin explains, his voice taking on a particular humorous edge that only appears when the prince is bound to be mocked in some way. “For all his skill with a sword, the prat can’t seem to manage not to tear up every piece of clothing he owns. I swear, he does it on purpose half the time.”

“I’m sure it isn’t on purpose.” Though even as she speaks, Gwen can’t help but laugh at how likely it was that the prince did that on purpose, once or twice at the very least.

“No, you’re right. He’s too much of a clotpole to do that. It’s just his princely ability to make more work for me just as I’m finishing my chores for him.”

Merlin goes on and on, waving his arms as he shares tale after woeful tale of how Prince Arthur is the biggest prattiest prat to ever walk the earth as she laughs until she can’t see through the tears in her eyes and her lungs beg for air.

Eventually, the stories fade along with the laughter. Gwen rests her head against his shoulder and he wraps and arm around her in return.

“We should do this again,” she says softly. “I enjoyed it.”

“Next time, I fully expect a story that Morgana would murder me in my sleep for if she knew I’d heard it,” Merlin responds. He’s joking, she knows. Well, mostly. “And I’ll bring the food?”

“I won’t have to worry about forgetting the basket that way.”

“Sounds like a plan, then.”

And they should get up now, return to Camelot, but the setting sun turns the sky a beautiful pink and the clouds look ethereal where they float. They should get up, but Gwen’s head stays on his shoulder and Merlin’s arm tightens around her almost imperceptibly.

They don’t move for a long while yet. Not until the sun has long since set and Gwen is half-asleep where she sits comfortably against Merlin’s side.

He helps her to her feet as the basket floats over to his waiting hand and the two begin their trek back home the same way they left, side by side with one’s hand clinging tightly to the other’s.

As the door to a siege tunnel comes into view - one they are far too familiar with after days spent in the woods turned into nights in the woods a few too many times - Merlin’s steps falter.

Gwen pauses beside him, head tilted in an unspoken question.

“Thank you,” he breathes, squeezing her hand tightly. He doesn’t say what for, but then again, he doesn’t really need to.

“Of course, Merlin.” Gwen squeezes his hand back, waits for him to relax his grip before tugging him forward again. “You should go to bed once you get home. Tomorrow will be a long day with as little sleep as we’re going to get.”

“Don’t worry, mother,” Merlin says, a grin flashing across his face briefly. “You get some rest, too, alright?”

“If I don’t, Morgana will be the one doing the mothering.” She pulls him to a stop just around the corner from her home and hugs him. “Goodnight, Merlin.”

“Goodnight, Gwen.”

With a last shared smile, Gwen turns away and retreats to her home. Her bed calls her name insistently, and she isn’t inclined to ignore it for long. At the door, she pauses once more and glances back to see Merlin leaning against the wall of the alley across the street.

One hand holds the door handle, a grounding feature that assures her this is real, she’s home and she’s safe and her friend is safe and all will be well. Her free hand rises almost without her permission, and she waves a final goodnight before entering her home.

Sleep calls her, and Gwen gives into it freely, barely taking the time to change before collapsing onto bed. Sleep finds her much easier than it did the previous night.

[xreaderandreaderinserts]

Sacrifice (Part 4b)--Merlin x Reader / Reader Insert (Le Morte D’Arthur)

Regular (Happy) Ending

As Merlin continued to think about both of your demises, he started to cry. He didn’t want it to end. Merlin had always felt like you were a part of him, and if you died, a part of him would die too. That part would have been the hopeful part, the courageous part, the part that found the strength to see the light in even the darkest of times. You always told him that true darkness was not the absence of light, but the belief that it would never return.

Slowly, his tears dried as he took a shaky breath. His eyes shot open.

Careful of the hole in his chest, Merlin steadily stood up. He saw Nimueh walking towards your slumped and lifeless body. She looked down at you and was about to reach towards you when Merlin spoke.

“You should not have killed my friend,” he said. His voice was low and husky with an angry passion that he had never used before. He almost hesitated at the sound of it, but he quickly recovered his senses.

Nimueh turned back to face Merlin as stared at him with a haughty look. She seemed to be thinking, “So what? What are you going to about it?” This only anger Merlin even more.

Merlin looked up into the sky and shot his hand out. Thunder clapped as clouds came rushing in. Nimueh was shooked at Merlin’s power and looked up instead of countering.

The hair on your body stood up as the air crackled to life. Merlin brought his hand down to face Nimueh. He focused all of his energy there and willed his magic to do as he wished. The sky flashed an electric blue as a white-hot rod erupted from the clouds.

Nimueh didn’t even have any time to scream before she was blown to pieces. The explosion was so bright and powerful that Merlin looked away and shielded his face with his arms. When Merlin looked back, her essence had faded into a giant puff of smoke and it had started to pour.

When the smog cleared, Merlin ran over to you. The rain was still coming down in torrents as thunder rolled and lightning flashed up above. 

“(Y/N),” he whispered as he neared you. He said your name again as he sat down next to you and again as he shook you. “(Y/N)!” he cried. Tears were forming once again in his eyes as he looked at your colorless face. Your skin had already started to go cold. Merlin looked up to the universe and yelled at the top of his lungs, “NO!” He continued to yell at the sky until his voice wouldn’t let him.

When he couldn’t scream at the world an longer, he wrapped his arms around you and squeezed as tightly as he could. It almost felt as though you were becoming warmer. “Merlin,” a small voice said. The voice sounded so much like yours and it made him cry even harder. He almost didn’t hear you say his name again. “Merlin,” you said more forcefully. Your voice was still weak, but Merlin heard you.

He gasped and looked up, drying his tears. “(YN)?” he questioned, “(Y/N)!” He couldn’t think of anything to say as he grinned like a madman. He could only state the obvious. “(Y/N)!” he exclaimed, “You’re alive!” He tucked his head into the crook of your neck with his arms still around you.

“What did you do?” you asked softly. You knew that you had died and that Merlin didn’t have the power to bring back the deceased. Honestly, you were shocked, but you were relieved nonetheless.

Merlin looked up at you with a shit-eating grin. “Nimueh is dead,” he told you. The balance of the world has been restored.

You returned a small smile of your own. “You amaze me,” you said. “You have mastered the power of life and death itself. Gauis’ll make a great warlock of you yet.”

“So you believe in me now?” he joked.

“Well... I would so if-if you could... stop this blasted rain.”

You both laughed.

“Merlin?” you said. He looked into your eyes as his laughter died down. “I love you.” He simply stared at you as you looked at him worriedly. Just as you were about to look away, Merlin grabbed your face and lifted it towards him as he leaned down.

The kiss was soft and gentle and your lips fit perfectly together. They were soft and warm. You could have stayed like that forever, but you eventually pulled apart. “I love you too”

Angst Ending

As Merlin continued to think about both of your demises, he started to cry. He didn’t want it to end. Merlin had always felt like you were a part of him, and if you died, a part of him would die too. That part would have been the hopeful part, the courageous part, the part that found the strength to see the light in even the darkest of times. You always told him that true darkness was not the absence of light, but the belief that it would never return.

Slowly, his tears dried as he took a shaky breath. His eyes shot open.

Careful of the hole in his chest, Merlin steadily stood up. He saw Nimueh crouched next to you. She was holding a silver dagger. It was nothing fancy and the blade was about five inches long.

Merlin furrowed his eyebrows and wondered what she was doing. Faster than Merlin could see, Nimueh embedded the knife into your lower sternum. Dark blood started to flow from the wound instantly.

“No!” he shouted. “Don’t touch her!”

Nimueh turned back to face Merlin as stared at him with a haughty look. She was calm and relaxed. It was almost as if she knew something that he didn’t.

Merlin looked up into the sky and shot his hand out. Thunder clapped as clouds came rushing in. Nimueh was shooked at Merlin’s power and looked up instead of countering.

The hair on your body stood up as the air crackled to life. Merlin brought his hand down to face Nimueh. He focused all of his energy there and willed his magic to do as he wished. The sky flashed an electric blue as a white-hot rod erupted from the clouds.

Nimueh just looked at Merlin and smiled. Then she was blown to bits. The explosion was so bright and powerful that Merlin looked away and shielded his face with his arms. When Merlin looked back, her essence had faded into a giant puff of smoke and it had started to pour.

When the smog cleared, Merlin ran over to you. The rain was still coming down in torrents as thunder rolled and lightning flashed up above.

“(Y/N),” he whispered as he neared you. He said your name again as he sat down next to you and again as he shook you. “(Y/N)!” he cried. Tears were forming once again in his eyes as he looked at your colorless face. He ripped the knife from your torso and threw it across the field. Your skin had already started to go cold. Merlin looked up to the universe and yelled at the top of his lungs, “NO!” He continued to yell at the sky until his voice wouldn’t let him.

When he couldn’t scream at the world an longer, he wrapped his arms around you and squeezed as tightly as he could. It almost felt as though you were becoming warmer. “Merlin,” a small voice said. The voice sounded so much like yours and it made him cry even harder. He almost didn’t hear you say his name again. “Merlin,” you said more forcefully. Your voice was still weak, but Merlin heard you.

He gasped and looked up, drying his tears. “(YN)?” he questioned, “(Y/N)!” He couldn’t think of anything to say as he grinned like a madman. He could only state the obvious. “(Y/N)!” he exclaimed, “You’re alive!” He tucked his head into the crook of your neck with his arms still around you.

“What did you do?” you asked softly. You knew that you had died and that Merlin didn’t have the power to bring back the deceased. Honestly, you were shocked, but you were relieved nonetheless.

Merlin looked up at you with a shit-eating grin. “Nimueh is dead,” he told you. The balance of the world has been restored.

You returned a small smile of your own. “You-” you coughed violently and blood spewed from your mouth. “Merlin,” you groaned.

“No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no! She knew this would happen! That’s why she looked so calm. That little bitch!”

You tried to laugh, but you were quickly stopped by the jabbing in your stomach. “Ah...” you moaned. You held your hands to the wound to slow down the bleeding. Merlin looked down at you and started to freak out. He quickly copied your actions and helped you apply pressure to your stomach. His eyes flickered back and forth between your face and your entwined hands.

“Merlin?” you said. He looked into your eyes as his laughter died down. “I love you.”

Merlin stared at you for a moment before he spoke. “(Full/N),” he began.” I have loved you for the longest time. Sure, it wasn't love-at-first-sight, but that doesn’t mean it was any less real. That day that we went out to the courtyard and walked around the Camelot was the day I first realized I love you.” Merlin kept talking as you started to fade away. Your concentration was staggered and it was hard to listen to Merlin’s words.

“I love the rain so much, Merlin. Did you make it rain for me?” You were delirious and you couldn’t feel the pain in your stomach anymore. Merlin could feel your grasp on the world slipping. He put more pressure on your wound, wincing because he didn’t want to hurt you. You merely smile at him softly. “I love you a lot,” you told him again.

Merlin knew that you didn’t have long, so he continued talking. He rushed through everything, hoping that you would understand what he was saying. But everything just blurred together. “I realized... fell in love with all of you. Your eyes... shadows I wanted to kiss way. I fell in love... your body. I fell in... the sound of your heart, your smile, your laugh, your quirks... is when you value someone else’s happiness over your own... You’ll always have a special place in my heart.” Your eyes began to wander and you couldn’t hold yourself up anymore. You slumped and Merlin rushed to grab you. In doing so, Merlin had to release your stomach and blood flowed even more furiously than before.

Your head was rolling around and you were dazed. You knew that it was Merlin looking at you with such a sad face, but you couldn’t understand why he was crying. So you asked him, “Why are you crying, Merlin? The rain is that bad.” Your voice was soft and wistful. You were constantly distracted by the things around, but you wanted to look at Merlin. You knew that it would make him feel better if you concentrated on him.

“I know it’s not (Y/N). I’m crying because-” he paused. He didn’t know how to tell you that you were dying. He didn’t even know if you would understand him if he did. So he didn’t. “I’m crying tears of joy. I haven’t seen you for a couple days and I’m so happy I got to see you.”

All of your energy was focused on looking as Merlin. You didn’t process that he was talking, only that he was there. Along with the rain. The rain! “I love the rain so much, Merlin. Did you make it rain for me?”

That was the point when Merlin knew you were gone. Even if you were still alive and breathing, you weren’t here. It was only a shell of you talking to him.

For two brief moments, your mind came back to you. You wanted to tell him how you felt. Then it faded. You didn’t know what kind of feelings you should tell him, so you told him all of them. “Merlin,” you said quietly. Your voice was hoarse, but you continued anyway. “Merlin, I’m cold. I’m wet and you’re wet and I ‘m worried about you. I don’t want you to get sick, Merlin. Gauis and Arthur would kill me for letting it happen, then they would kill you for not taking better care of yourself. Merlin, I’m tired. I think I want to take a nap, but I don’t want to stand up. The courtyard is too far away from my bed. Will you carry me? I always hated the courtyard. It’s too dusty. I wish it had more color.” You kept talking on like this, your voice fading away as you went.

Merlin chuckled lightly at the irony. You were worried about him when it was you who was dying. When you finally stopped talking he looked into your eyes and said, “I love you, (Y/N).”

You smiled at him. “I love you too.”

Then you closed your eyes as Merlin wept on your shoulder.

Alright! I finished the series! I’m sorry for the really crappy endings, but it was something quick I did. Took a few hours to write, so I’d appreciate some feedback and a note. I’m going to start back up on my PJO x Reader story and hopefully finish it up by the end of the month. Stay tuned for that.

Also--PLEASE REQUEST!

As always, I love you guys! Leave a note if you want more.