Lange said nothing, and still there * g * And I wanted to do even just a Merry Christmas and sometimes up my empty bag that does not exist - namely, the estuary has also again the keys and cut their first "original" captured on disk. Ok, with original template, but what the heck. Just what was in my archives, now at the stage: The Elves Story for
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alraune315 !
Disclaimer: No plan, who invented the saga of Arthur finally really, but I'm sure he will take me for my interpretation can not sue and declare my power plant just as the "Original & ldquo , * g *
Rating: R
Beta: sammy chan : -*
Warnings: A little Christmas and my standards a lot of fluff
~ (Cressida) ~ Shakespeare
needs To my shame I admit that I could not found that I have set my heart the poisonous lies on the tongue to this day with all to prevent agents.
Thanks Galahad but now I'm sitting here seething with anger and jealousy hardly tamed, I pretend that I would love for our King. I gag on tender meat, the sweet wine and listen to the game of the troubadour who sings of the beauty of the bride. Beautiful she is the daughter of a foreign king. Yet. For if the years and have only (I like it I imagine) that sapped her pregnancies, her beauty will be so faded like a rose in November.
But now she is still young and proud. She is sitting next to Arthur, the narrow back held straight, stretched the round chin stubbornly - and the untrained eye, is easy to overlook the gentle shaking of the slender fingers when they pick up the cup, to cling to him as to an anchor.
I see it. As I see the looks they exchanged with the Knight of her father, who has now vowed Arthur loyalty. I also see the betrayal, commit to the two, barely, that the moon will rise once again. A betrayal, I predicted Arthur on the first day of its arrival have.
and you need neither magician nor be visionaries.
you have to know only about the irresistible sweetness of love.
that undertow that tugs at one that might rip into the depths, against whom they are not able to fight back - yes, it does not. The mind can wipe honor and simple.
And of course you have to open their eyes and see.
And that's what I do. To judge this new chess pieces better, which appeared on the field. forget
Well, and about their own pain a little, while I delight in the other.
Lancelot is fighting with himself and his conscience clear. Probably he was already indoctrinated loyalty, as he could not even run. The princess, however look as though they would accept the usefulness of this compound and head high on the Sacrificial altar called double rise - but that does not mitigate the guilt of betrayal.
I almost feel sorry. But to be honest, it amuses me too much. There they sit, look at each other, silent promise in his eyes and know nothing. They think they are committing treason. They think that Arthur is pathetic to ...
I have to bite the lips in order not to laugh, drink of the wine quickly, am hiding behind the silver cup.
And swallow me almost as a hissing sounds from the right, as poisonous as that of a serpent,
"You're so quiet, venerable Merlin. Have not you got the language, given the fact that you now no longer play second fiddle? "
I blink and turn up their nose than me crying sour breath blowing in his face. Morgan le Fay's eyes are narrow and dark with jealousy, as always when she looks at me. I smile forced to try the needed courtesy, payable to a princess. I do not succeed very well, I I'm too aware that the woman in Arthur's favor is far below me, sister or not. Apart
mention, it is repugnant to me. Not because it is considered wrong and only to their advantage.
But because she calls the intelligence of a cow pat their own.
"I do not need my position into question, dear Morgan. I'm Arthur's friend, it is a wife to change anything. "
Especially not one that can not wait to Legs for another to make wide .
I allowed myself a smile, full lips are forgiven as Morgans, and sullenly (modesty was never one of my strengths) set for:
"Also, I am the most powerful magician Britain, this position is to me probably also can not excavation."
I look closely, as Morgan reply chew like a piece of cartilage. Usually, it commands the label to swallow such rebukes implied, and to be still smiling.
courtesy Morgan, however, is just as logical thinking.
"Oh yes, they will sell you, Merlin. With the arms of a woman against whom you know not spell! "
The pure anger distorts your face, it can be ugly and old and struggles seem to me from a head shaking. Actually It is time for them to be married. However, I'm the poor pig, which they must assume, is already suffering.
I guess I would propose Galahad. As thanks for the advice, that Arthur is to marry Guinevere.
"Ha! You know the answer to anything. "She leans back satisfied smile and pours the wine into himself, as he would be water. A thin trickle of running down her mouth, she nervously silver embroidered with a sleeve dusts.
it really worth the effort to continue the fight? Should we fight with someone who is as defenseless as a newborn? That is probably not very chivalrous ...
How very convenient that I'm not a knight.
"Morgana", I put a regretful timbre of my voice and lean forward to compassionately to pat her hand, "I understand your frustration. As aging have half sister of the King you will certainly not easy, but if you keep it up quarrelsome, Arthur must carry a poor drop in chains you to the altar, so you can finally get married. "I show her smiling my toughness teeth (of which I own in opposition to it all yet) and enjoy it, flips open her mouth stunned. "But remember that you still remain the monastery, if all else fails ..."
"You ..." She gasps, clutching her cup when she wanted it to me the Head pull. It was not even lying. Arthur has dragged many of their candidates, it has unfortunately scared away all. She is now almost twenty, and the resentment has left ugly marks on her face. She wanted only one that is forbidden for them.
And I can call her lover.
Morgan is exceptionally smart enough to know when she has lost the cup, slams on the table and stands up so abruptly that her chair almost tipped. I feign dismay, because it's so fun as it grinds his teeth.
"I hope I have not offended you with my words, Princess ..."
"Sir Galahad, you would me the honor me accompany outside? I do not feel well! "
Morgan rumbled over a Galahad pulls from his chair, which is very to knight, to defend themselves against this attack.
And I can of course can not:
"You look really a bit pale, Morgana defended. Maybe you should take one of my tinctures?
you just snorted like a horse irritable and grinds her companion through the hall. I regret actually a little as she goes. She was a welcome distraction from the disaster that is called marriage. Now I will smile again and just watch the carnies who tear their antics before the board.
"Had be, Merlin? She has it hard enough. "
The dark voice penetrates like a warm fire. And when put slender fingers on my hand (under the table, of course), I am even willing to apologize to Morgan.
Fortunately, she has already left.
I dare to raise our eyes and see blue eyes, encircled by thick lashes, just a shade darker than the bright hair, which Arthur falls in the furrowed brow.
Damn the love that degraded me to a jealous jerk who would prefer to bawl like a baby. Or clamor like a woman. He would prefer to curl up on Arthur's lap to hear that nothing of all this just happens.
sigh Still I see down at the slender hand holding mine, the hand of a warrior, very rough run through the Excalibur. The tendons and muscles of the forearms tense, the longer dwell on it and my eyes I lift my head and smile as cheerful.
"Treat me a bit of fun." I can not help it, I rub his thumb back of the hand of Arthur. "Morgan just beyond my patience."
"Since when you are patient?" Arthur still looks serious, but I know him well enough to amuse the twitch to notice of his mouth.
"Always," I counter. "It is one of my strengths. "
" What modesty? "
" And piety. "
Arthurs mask falls apart when he bites his lip and grins but only to laugh instead. It can expose my heart. How young he looks, if the seriousness of the king falls from him. It is as would put a picture of his face, the image of the boy who grew up with me. The freed me from the stables of the chicken and the chef has stolen his knife to save these creatures.
And who has served with me any punishment that Uther has imposed upon us.
was like a brother. Before. Before that night in December.
Four years ago now, almost to the day and yet I know, as it had happened only yesterday. Two inexperienced fifteen year old boys who did not know what they are doing. And to the false king Uther would have hung up on the toes, they had been caught.
But the noise caused by seasoned wine and curiosity piqued, the obscene jokes of the veteran knight ... we did not give much thought of danger. Well, Arthur has, perhaps, but I've kissed the objections of soft lips, I have delivered trembling hands, curly and flattered, driven by lust and searing heat, which requested for fulfillment.
My rear still hurts at the memory of Arthur's awkwardness and lack of oil and patience.
Arthur suppresses warning my hand on my leg sweeps promising before it escapes me this delicious touch, the heat is driving me in the loins, and I still ld ; seen smiling. Smiling and with undisguised lust.
"Stop Smiling, so outrageous, I hate to drag you out here and sit my newly wedded wife . Let Can you imagine the talk? "
It's like a slap in the face. Four years and never before has Arthur dismissed me. I make acquaintance with the inconvenience of the secret lover, and I do not like it.
It tastes to me a bit.
"Of course. I forgot that the King has other commitments now, "I reply, more than talking and spitting so toxic that even Morgan would turn pale with envy.
Merlin ... please ... "
it is already there, the bad conscience. It does not take much, just a flicker of pain in the eyes familiar enough. The same pain as I also feel it. I fixed up to fight blackened beams and has literally before I can force a distorted smile on my lips.
"I'm ... I'm sorry," I grind, and even a deaf person could hear out my disgust. I want to say very different things want him to make allegations and insist on truly my earlier rights.
But I really would like to take back the words just make it not Arthur even more difficult than it is. He is, after all, who needs to crawl into bed and the woman pregnant. I will however only gnash their teeth and go up the wall whenever he is with her.
An idea that the just choked down more wine drift back to my tongue.
acid I swallow saliva and try to convince myself that Arthurs injured silence me not to tear the heart out of the chest.
A silence that stretches into infinity, tugging at my soul. Damn he was. A word from him can hurt me deeper than any sword.
No word, however, brings me to fast.
I try to breathe calmly, trying to squeeze ever air in my lungs. What is harder for me falls, the longer the silence. This silence, which only exists between us, the drones in the noisy hall, which overshadowed the jubilation of the wedding guests.
As if by mist I see the steward, who waved frantically reminds me of my duty. I grit my teeth and get up in silence. More so I'm not just another item on the program, which is held in honor of the newly minted couple.
That and a lovesick idiot who bathes in self-pity.
I see Arthur does not, as I strut in the middle of the great hall of Camelot. I see no one wearing the nose high in the air. But I know that all look at me. The magician who can go out with a finger snap some flares, the hall appeared in diffuse light. Which the brown hair long and smooth on the back and shoulders flows like water. The black in his robe without adornment appears dark and menacing, as he raises his hands.
all smile at my youth. And they fear my power. All, except one.
Arthur. The only person I see when I start to work my magic. The only one I wish to impress with this farce. And it is a farce. Not more than an illusion, sleight, if be precise. In fact, it's beneath my dignity. But is even the beginning in order to elicit the crowd an enthusiastic panting.
let alone with my will I alien plants and trees sprout from the soil, sand covered the stone floor suddenly, from my memories the previous trips to the Orient sprung. Within seconds, the hall is like an oasis in the sunset. Some maids stifled shriek, as camels pass by them, as Cheetahs sneak around under the tables, looking for prey.
But they sigh delighted when fiery warriors hunt on horses over the tables.
The men cheer enthusiastically, disguised as a girl, slim and supple as young willows, unknown to dance drum rhythms.
I have to admit me that my own performances hardly interested. I conjure fantastical creatures, humans and animals - and all this not to impress Arthur.
No. I do it only to disappear as inconspicuous as possible can.
When the hall is like a boiling kettle, I am going.
There is really no escape. No right. I leave my audience only for pleasure and get out a sigh of relief through a side door into the open.
Only here, in biting cold and gloomy night I allow myself a bout of weakness. I embrace with trembling fingers the outer wall, I bowed down together under the almost physical pain and press on the eyes to prevent burning, I take the view more than the falling snow.
sell But I can not, this feeling of being torn apart.
I still see Arthur in front of me, sitting at the table next to his bride, as he avoids my gaze, a smile to spare, not even an appreciative nod.
nothing.
It hurts. More than words can describe. And I think that I can not breathe under the pain, although crystal-clear air fills my lungs.
"Are you all right? Once the performance has so much been tearing your powers? "
I suppress a groan, when I hear the voice behind me. A hand settles on my shoulder and I teach give up, even though I now feel really not by conversation.
Especially since it's a joke that this little show should have weakened me.
"only a temporary weakness," put on, I shake off the hand as I turn around and freeze. "Sir Lancelot."
He smiles, acts surprised and pleased and surprisingly young, with medium-length brown hair that covered him confused and wet snow in the face.
"You know me?"
How can I not? He finally climbs my biggest competition.
"Your reputation precedes you," I flatter, eventually you have to know his enemy. Even if the enemy situation dramatized here is probably just me. "I understand that you have the Lady Guinevere conducted safely to the board before you have sworn loyalty to my king. "
A twinge of pain flitting over the soft facial features, the same pain that I also feel me and my words do not help sorry. Here I want to hurt the man because ... because I ... I can think of no plausible reason. Except the one that I want to share my pain.
"It was an honor ... to take care of me for the good of the lady." Lancelot tightens the shoulders and turns his eyes as he lies very obvious.
Not that I doubt that he was an honor and a pleasure to communicate with the lady ... but the fact that he could escort her to her husband, will travel probably have a little clouded.
For a tiny moment I play with the thought that my knowledge of him to rub his nose. I want to see how these brown eyes widen in horror as the pale face and the last touch of color lose. Determined would he back away, hands raised defensively, deny shaking his head.
For a moment I lose myself to this idea, forget about it, even the night that awaits me. This lonely night.
the devastating syllables of me are already on the tongue, I feel like my heart beats faster, such as tightening up my muscles involuntarily - a state in which I usually only Arthur can move.
Or just those evil, which I hide from him.
for which I am ashamed.
Sometimes.
"despite your youth you shall be a wise man, Merlin."
Lancelot's voice brings me back to the earth. I blink and open your mouth, but he raises his hand, his lips pressed together, his eyes narrow and calculating.
"Maybe you still take the advice of a simple knight. Verbergt your jealousy better, as you and your king not want to endanger"
Even as he speaks, Lancelot turns itself off, probably to have the last word, but to be honest, he would have until the summer solstice can stand here and I would not find the answer occurred.
Now I'm the one struggling for breath in horror, the blood from his face softened, the knees are so terribly soft, that I cling only to the stone balustrade, can not order from this strike is almost physically, to break down.
"I'll tell you something, Merlin." Lancelot's eyes glowing in fact a threat, as he steps forward one step. Another. Until I can feel his breath on my face froze. "I'm interested neither your nor Arthur perverse inclinations. I will still keep you in mind and should be the only one suffering Lady Guinevere happen is you can not protect even the most powerful magic in front of me. "
röchle for air and I can smell the guy, sweat and leather and hatred towards me beat. And I can not do much more than shivering to stand before him and stare.
And to ask me who know it yet.
When I have taken for an idiot, it has been found within days, guess who else? Were we too careless?
course, we had this I increases bile up the throat, when I think of how many times we have played with the danger. And a cold rage eats through my chest when I think that we need to hide. So long and for ever.
The anger helps me to push the panic that raged inside me. My fingers tremble no more, as I reach for Lancelot's tunic and the few inches closer to him, draw him away from me.
"You do not know who your threat, Knight."
Smiling He looks down at me, aware of its power is so sure of the strength of steel and muscles. Verily, I am thin and small, I'm hopelessly inferior to him physically. And it is good that he thinks that - it will sweeten my triumph only.
"I guess I threaten the famous Merlin," he says, still grinning, without making an attempt to solve, to be by myself. "Creates a magician, illusions, to please his king. Really, a great magician, tremble before I probably should. "
A thought is enough. Lancelot has just enough time to utter a gasp before he crashes against the walls of Camelot.
"You should indeed tremble before me, knight."
Now I am the one who is smiling down on him, him with a nod to the feet ; SSE imagine - but a few inches above the ground.
"And you should know when it is better to keep quiet."
He gasped, eyes wide and panicked, defends himself against the invisible grip and can do nothing, can just dangling, helpless in my power.
"If I hear vague rumors that are harmful to my king, you will be able to protect a sword in the world before me."
I repeat his threat ironically, with a brief bow, but I would say goodbye to a dance and leave. Behind me, it crashes again and I know he looks up to me. Not everything in sight with disgust, but fear. Legitimate fear.
still clouded my vision of unfounded anger. Anger, I cling to me, not to think about the frightening questions must have raised the Lancelot in me. Which I think must still early enough. For I must find a solution without that Arthur also watching only what danger we float.
But not now, not just today.
to the wedding but I can not go back. So I go to the only place where I am sure of privacy. Our site. Hidden in the bowels of Camelot is the grotto, whose stone gates open only for two people. Of which only one will appear tonight.
Yet shall the peace of this place as a balm on my bare nerves leads me breathe a little easier, does that anger will disappear, the destructive rage.
I look around, can not suppress a twinge of pride when I look at the stalactite cave. The diffuse blue light that seems to come out of the walls themselves, the source, the water is so dark and smooth like a black mirror.
all my work. Created for Arthur. For me. In order to be together. Protected from prying eyes.
The water is warm and oily leave on my skin, it is full of memories that make me smile. And tear my heart in the chest.
For the first time I'll be alone, truly alone. For the first time I will wait in vain, that the stone moves with a crunch. For the first time I no longer defend myself against those images that already have been lurking all along in me.
have been waiting for me to get in a weak moment. Arthur and Guinevere ... I can see them. As clearly as in a vision. Keyed Body, of which only one of me familiar. Shiny skin with sweat in the candlelight. Ineinandergekrallte hands. Gasp-
The pain that I allow only now really is overwhelming. As a blade it cuts into my soul. So intense that I can not cry once. I can only claw my fingers deep into my flesh, to make the physical punishment to under this storm not to lose his mind.
order not to tear down the walls of Camelot with my will.
Trembling I gasp for air. Attempts to restrain me to control the magic again, the first stone of the high ceiling replaced. Dust trickles down on me, covered my wet hair, his long braids like cobwebs floating in the water.
awareness deeply and exhale, I imagine that Arthur is with me. For me, cursed and not in a marriage bed. I imagine that his hands touch me, his voice reassuring me whispers ...
"Do I have to evacuate the castle? Or did you back in control? "
I open my eyes and almost jumped in shock from the water. Before me, the pool, Arthur kneels and smiles as before, if he succeeded in a match.
And that he just got married, he's pretty far away from his bride. And he's pretty naked.
I feel as if a glowing ring taken from my chest. Before I stubbornly fold their arms, because I realize that he has seen me. Has seen how I wind like a worm on the hook.
"If you are not now in the loving embrace of your wife?" I asked pointedly, ignoring the fact that my face is probably red and swollen.
Arthur disapprovingly clucks his tongue, a sound that elicits from me a pleasurable shudder.
"I fear my bride embraced today only her chamber pot. You must have eaten something wrong and I am a considerate king I played there was not on my rights. "
I see suspicious of how he can slip into the water, but I would prefer to throw myself greedily on his body , golden and firm and full of scars. I am completely indifferent as to why he is not with her as long as I can have it for me.
"Perhaps also someone help that the lady does not feel well," Arthur whispered conspiratorially, and I'm so perplexed I catch myself from it and drag it to a sinewy chest leave.
"That was not me," I defend myself automatically, probably because I played with the idea of the lady actually smuggle something into the wine.
"But you have shown me once, where you keep all your lotions and potions."
My mouth works on undignified, as my scope this confession is clear. Arthur did it, fair enough done because He wanted to be with me!
Lancelot And tomorrow I would therefore wish to his throat, but good, to losses in war is always to be expected.
Now I'm just happy. So happy that it's almost ridiculous. I have to pull myself together to give this feeling warm and tingly, not loudly expressed. I'm finally a certain dignity to preserve.
Oh hell, who cares?
I beam all over his face and become very soft in Arthur's arms. His smile away my mind, loving and affectionate. Not a word he says about me and my childish jealousy. And I love him with every fiber of my soul. Will it. Now. Aufkeuchend I press myself closer to Arthur, narrow hips Hugging her legs, to admit this addiction that nourishes me and destroyed the same time.
is soft and slippery his skin, which I claw my fingers when I kiss him, this thin lips, the soft tip of the tongue can finally feel again, the sweetness of its taste experience.
Lancelot looked a bit deranged ... from when I met him ... "Also, Arthur's voice is not quite so tight. Oh, but for something else that pushes against my stomach. "Do you have to do with it?"
"Only a difference of opinion", I whisper between two kisses, while I try to touch him everywhere at once. I will not talk, do not be gentle, do not wait.
re Arthur opens his mouth, probably to tell me that I just can not break his knights so a few bones, but I take this opportunity to him my tongue deep between his trembling lips to push.
And my fingers between the jaws tight.
an overwhelmed moan is the answer, a world that revolves, as Arthur me solid pack, penetrates me, takes me with his body as being.
pain and pleasure become one, are still as great as it did four years ago, in that December night in which we have fallen to that raging lust for the first time.
And it's still just as good, so consuming, exciting and exhilarating. Our bodies are wedged, shining with sweat and oily water, our heavy breathing echoes from the high walls, when we bite the bloody lips, while we love each other desperately.
Each shock death and life in one. Always accompanied by hope. Always knowing that it will not end like always.
My ribs break almost at Arthurs grip, but I do not want it otherwise, I urge hot even closer to him, rubbing me to him like an animal in heat. Moaning cry, sob, as oceans of light flare up before my eyes, the pleasure is simply too great when I feel like Arthur trembling, exploding blistering heat in me.
And I come, infinitely long, infinitely good, maintained and protected only by the person who touched my soul.
I do not know when it ends, this quake, which runs through my body like waves, leaving me powerless. Lazy and satisfied.
"Damn, Merlin ... you have to make my temper every time this trial?"
I grin hidden in Arthur's neck and kiss the delicate skin under which is the heartbeat is still fast. I know this already, the bad conscience when I got my will. And Arthur has again enough blood in the brain in order to make accusations.
still smiling, I rub the water on his skin, leaving a shiny film when it rolls off of golden perfection. It's not like I had in the past few years, nothing learned.
"Yes, I have to."
Arthur looks at me severely, pulls out of me, with a caution, which makes my heart beat faster and swim back to shore with me.
"I do not want to hurt you," he grumbles, wrinkled forehead, and I have to speak so as not already own to climb ashore.
"You did not hurt me."
"which I will convince myself."
I hide my laughter in my arms as I expected, belly landing on the shore, butt high in the air and despite the humiliating position with me and my destiny completely satisfied.
Arthur is here with me, very close, so close that I can feel his breath on my rump before he kisses him.
And everything else can wait. Until I can think of a better solution than this illusion of peace.
but one can not wait ...
"You know, Arthur," I whisper, before I can take the tip of his tongue for breath. "I think, Galahad and Morgana have his eye each other ..."
end
clock alarm clock 
3] you sing with loud when you listen to music through headphones? 
10] What you've seen on TV? 
