hollowchild | IC Inbox

[sophie looks tired. the nightmares weren't kind to her either, and it's been a long few days dealing with other peoples' aftermath. but her smile is real enough]

I always have time for you, Morgana.

[ It's an odd thing to hear. It's odd in general this...proximity, the kindness behind it all. She looks tired and Morgana should not be speaking of this but at the same time -

At the same time she feels like everything is falling apart, herself falling apart, bring built anew and she looks at her. ]

We used to be good friends, you might have heard. Before it all came to this. Me and Arthur were siblings even before we knew we were blood and he and Merlin - do you know, when Merlin first came to Camelot I was certain he wouldn't last a week. Arthur was such a prat to him.

[ and then it all came apart and now Morgana feels as if she is looking at a puzzle only she isn't sure what to do with the pieces. Do they even fit together anymore. ]

Everything came entirely apart, it is not even held together at the seams anymore and I do not know how to fix it, I don't even know why I want to fix it, by right, I should be happy.

[it's hard to keep up with what morgana is saying, because sophie missed out on everything that's happened to asgard's camelot even though she saw merlin's network post and knew something was wrong. but as she listens, things fall together even if the picture is completely blurry. she thinks, suddenly, of her brothers, of the last thing she said to francescu, which is the last thing that the sophie who she is in asgard will ever say to him]

Because sometimes hating someone doesn't stop you from loving them.

What happened, Morgana?

There is much to explain here that Morgana cannot. For she would not tell of the one event that was at the root of them all; she would not tell of herself choking on the floor and Merlin holding her as she was dying.

And because of him.

She won't tell of it even though she should, even though he would finally get what he deserves. ]

There was something Merlin has done, a wrongdoing for which I never forgave him. Yet I have kept the secret of what he had done against me -- I don't know why. At first for him and then for Arthur.

[ for all how much some thought she hated him. ]

Yet Arthur knows now, because of my dream. And he and Merlin are no longer speaking. I tried talking to them both. Yet Merlin accepted his fate and claims Arthur has no need for him and Arthur will not hear of it and I -

[ and she was the one who had nearly died, she is now the one trying to get them to talk, this is absurd. ]

They do not listen to me.

I see.

[she doesn't, but she does. secrets and lies and things falling apart, and people refusing to put them back together. these are all things she can understand. but she can't imagine arthur and merlin sundered, not really. it doesn't take all that much observation to know they complete each other]

...did Merlin know? Is this something he's done, or something he will do, for him?

It is something he already did. He had told me about it and earned my forgiveness for it.

[ once. when she was still the sweet lady Morgana and not the woman who came after. ]

But after I was graced with the memories of it I could not forgive him again, I do not think I will ever be able to.

But you would have Arthur forgive him this thing?

I would not ask him to forgive him.

[ but she hesitates over the next words. ]

He was good to me despite of the things I have done to him and his. I would ask him to do the same for Merlin.

That sounds a rather lot like forgiveness, at least for practical purposes.

He tried to kill you, didn't he?

[ she is silent for a moment and then for another. ]

Yes.

[ and then she shits yet again. ]

Arthur needs Merlin. I don't care much for forgiveness. I care for Arthur.

[sophie just nods. she doesn't even look horrified, even though she feels suddenly a bit cold. if there is a thing she understands, it is that people who are full of love and kindness are not necessarily full of goodness, that these are wholly separate things. she suspects that this is not something arthur really understands, because he is a good man, the kind of good man who needs kind people to keep him from being eaten up too soon.]

Arthur does need Merlin. And Merlin needs Arthur. At the moment, they probably don't like that very much.

[she sighs]

Yes.

[ and honestly she's tired. Too used at fighting against people than fighting for them. She is silent for another moment. ]

There is only so much I can do. With them leaving the house they lived in, Gwen and Mordred are there alone and with the recent --- events, that worries me more than Arthur and Merlin's fights, woeful as they may be.

...they left Mordred alone? He's just a child.

[that's the part that seems to visibly upset her, that they're so wrapped up in themselves that they forgot the child.]

I'm not sure I have enough pull with either of them to actually accomplish anything. But I can speak to Merlin. If he won't fight for Arthur...

[she shrugs a little. there's no point.]

There are the ones who live in the house nearby. And he has Gwen but he is miserable. I had a hand in this as they do, I left well before them.

[ and for all her anger and hate, Morgana never wished the child who was her kin to be sad. ]

[there's a long moment of silence, and sophie chews her lip briefly, choosing her words with care]

Then perhaps it's time for you to leave the Welcome Hall. You needn't go back to them to make a place for him.

[ she looks up, something almost anxious sitting there. ]

I cannot care for a child, I know nothing of children. Gwen she is -- more suitable.

[she tilts her head just a little, measuring]

Don't you?

I -

[ she always cared for Mordred, truly, she had risked her life for him and would die for him but all of this bravery is nothing when compared to actually taking care of him. ]

Don't know.

Sometimes, to see a thing done properly, one has to do it. Men will always have their quarrels, you cannot make them see what's there. But I don't think anyone who is paying attention could deny that the child adores you, not one you or another.

He remembers the woman who hid him in her bedroom and lied to the King to make certain he survives.

[ but what does that mean about Morgana's abilities to care for him? ]

There is also Gwen. She does not remember how it all came apart, she still remembers us all united.

And you have done nothing for him since?

[sophie sighs, runs fingers through her hair]

Morgana, I would tell you something that I learned in the heart of the world, beneath the sea.

[ she looks as if she wants to say something, I left. I left and ignored his pleads for me to return. I've been a fool and I left my own kin. But she holds it back, inclines her head. ]

I would listen.

We, as we are here, will never return home. Whether the war is won or lost, these people we have all become will be unmade. The war will be won and we will all go back to the place from where we came, and forget this one, or the war will be lost and everything will end, but either way, we will end. You and I and everyone else who has been changed here, for better or worse, will end.

We spend so much time trying to salvage, trying to prepare for a future that is not for us. It is for the people we once were. Take your chances.

[ it's a painful, liberating thought, something that makes it hard to breathe and for a moment, she looks like she might cry but the moment passes and Morgana is stronger again. ]

With Mordred?

[which is why sophie has only started speaking of it now, and only slowly, privately. it's a thought that still threatens to crush the air out of her lungs with its mad promise and pain]

Any of them. All of them. This is all we have, there is no home to sacrifice our happiness for. A war to win, yes, to finish what has been begun, but it's not an ending we will see through.

( ᴠɪᴅᴇᴏ | ᴘʀɪᴠᴀᴛᴇ )

( ᴠɪᴅᴇᴏ | ᴘʀɪᴠᴀᴛᴇ )

( ᴠɪᴅᴇᴏ | ᴘʀɪᴠᴀᴛᴇ )

( ᴠɪᴅᴇᴏ | ᴘʀɪᴠᴀᴛᴇ )

( ᴠɪᴅᴇᴏ | ᴘʀɪᴠᴀᴛᴇ )

( ᴠɪᴅᴇᴏ | ᴘʀɪᴠᴀᴛᴇ )

( ᴠɪᴅᴇᴏ | ᴘʀɪᴠᴀᴛᴇ )

( ᴠɪᴅᴇᴏ | ᴘʀɪᴠᴀᴛᴇ )

( ᴠɪᴅᴇᴏ | ᴘʀɪᴠᴀᴛᴇ )

( ᴠɪᴅᴇᴏ | ᴘʀɪᴠᴀᴛᴇ )

( ᴠɪᴅᴇᴏ | ᴘʀɪᴠᴀᴛᴇ )

( ᴠɪᴅᴇᴏ | ᴘʀɪᴠᴀᴛᴇ )

( ᴠɪᴅᴇᴏ | ᴘʀɪᴠᴀᴛᴇ )

( ᴠɪᴅᴇᴏ | ᴘʀɪᴠᴀᴛᴇ )

( ᴠɪᴅᴇᴏ | ᴘʀɪᴠᴀᴛᴇ )

( ᴠɪᴅᴇᴏ | ᴘʀɪᴠᴀᴛᴇ )

( ᴠɪᴅᴇᴏ | ᴘʀɪᴠᴀᴛᴇ )

( ᴠɪᴅᴇᴏ | ᴘʀɪᴠᴀᴛᴇ )

( ᴠɪᴅᴇᴏ | ᴘʀɪᴠᴀᴛᴇ )

( ᴠɪᴅᴇᴏ | ᴘʀɪᴠᴀᴛᴇ )

( ᴠɪᴅᴇᴏ | ᴘʀɪᴠᴀᴛᴇ )

( ᴠɪᴅᴇᴏ | ᴘʀɪᴠᴀᴛᴇ )

( ᴠɪᴅᴇᴏ | ᴘʀɪᴠᴀᴛᴇ )

( ᴠɪᴅᴇᴏ | ᴘʀɪᴠᴀᴛᴇ )

( ᴠɪᴅᴇᴏ | ᴘʀɪᴠᴀᴛᴇ )