Playing With Other People's Toys

These visions are driving me mad, Merlin. I see so many things, so many contradictory things. They never stop. Sometimes, I can’t tell which is the reality and which are the dreams. I can’t remember who I (the real I) am supposed to hate and who I’m supposed to love. Is the real world the one where you poisoned me, or the one where I bore you children? Do I know how Gwen looks in death because I killed her, or simply because I have dreamed it so many times?

[…]

I am a seer, even in my madness. I see other worlds, things that never were. Some are ugly, some are torturous, and even the sweetest merely tantalize. They all start with one little change…

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60+ AUs in 3200 words.  Far too many ships: Lots and lots of MerlinxMorgana, loads of ArthurxGwen, a MerlinxGwen, a MerlinxFreya, an ArthurxMorgana, semi-accidental MerlinxArthur, ArthurxElena, ArthurxMithian, MorganaxLeon, and probably a couple I forgot.

Endings both happy and sad, character death, Insane!Morgana, and lots of dark implications (though nothing explicit).  PG-13.  Spoilers for everything ever.

Day 24 of my fic-a-day New Year’s Project.

“Oi!  Spaceman!  Can you hear me?”  Her eyes are closed, and her face and body are as slack as a sleeping child’s, but her voice is confident and very much awake.

Donna’s memories are suppressed…at least, in her conscious mind.  When she sleeps, things become more complicated.  Post-Journey’s-End, spoilers through The End of Time.  G/PG, eventual Shaun/Donna, not exactly a fixfic but not exactly not.  Part 1/4, follow link in title for more.

Day 19 of my fic-a-day New Year’s Project.

Follow the link in the title for yet another Merlin Season 2  fix-fic. :D  Yeah, I know, everyone writes these.  This one was necessary as background to a planned oneshot series (two parts of which already exist if you’re interested).  Possibly unusual in that things are not instantly easy the moment he tells her the truth?  I hope so.  And Morgana saves the day in the end, which I enjoyed writing.

Merlin/Morgana friendship/pre-romance, G/PG, big spoilers for season 2.

Day 18 of my fic-a-day New Year’s Project.

Donna, Noble Donna, do you hear us in your dreams?
Does your heart cry out against a world as empty as it seems?
Oh Donna, Noble Donna, she who came to right our wrong,
We’re still singing in your honor, though you cannot hear our song!

Doctor-Donna came to help us when our spirit had run dry.
Doctor-Donna wept our tears when we’d forgotten how to cry.
Her bright fire burns in legend with the Doctor by her side,
Brilliant, valiant Doctor-Donna whose good heart restored our minds.

Follow link in title for the rest.

I’m not sure that the songs the Ood sing about Donna Noble sound quite like this (they are probably better poets than I), but this was my attempt at duplicating one of them.  Spoilers through 4x13.

Day 17 of my fic-a-day New Year’s Project.

We say it’s for the thrills and chills,
For handsome faces, stunning eyes,
To see whom this week’s monster kills…
But deep inside we know we lie.

The motive’s simpler than we knew,
More childish than we dared to say:
We hope that box of purest blue
Will land in our backyard someday

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The REAL reason we watch Doctor Who, in 28 lines of rhyming iambic tetrameter.  No spoilers, no warnings, no pairings, just love. :D  The slightly belated day 16 of my fic-a-day New Year’s Project.  BTW, this is officially the halfway point, and I’m still not failing hugely.

He finds that he rather enjoys being a mystical guardian. People don’t normally take Rory Williams very seriously, but the Knights Templar are very superstitious and the antiquity of his Latin is actually a help in intimidating them. He hears them whispering at night (plastic must resonate better than flesh, he notes, and files that fact away for future reference); they aren’t sure whether he’s a saint, or an angel, or a demon, but a man who never eats and never sleeps must be one of the three. They cross themselves when he passes and they take great, great care with the box. He quite enjoys it. He waits.

After about a millennium, the pain goes away. He isn’t guilty or sad or even really lonely. He knows that he wants to see her again, but even the resilience of plastic can only keep up passion for so long. He’s simply waiting now. He knows that he loves her, that he will protect her with everything he is, that he’ll die for her without hesitation if necessary, but that’s not a feeling in his chest, it’s a certainty in his will. It’s enough. He waits.

Rory waited for 1894 years, trying unsuccessfully to stay out of trouble. This is an attempt to fill in some small fraction of the detail.  Rory/Amy, PG/PG-13 for bodily harm and misunderstood intentions.  Follow link in title for more.

Day 15 of my fic-a-day New Year’s Project

Arthur opens the door and pokes his head inside.

“It never ceases to amaze me how long women can take to fuss with clothing. I was expecting you half an hour ago.”

“Worth the delay, though?” Gwen asks, pushing her handiwork towards her husband. He lays his hands on his sister’s shoulders and looks her up and down, shaking his head in feigned disbelief. “You may be dangerously insane…and a witch…and deeply irritating…and have bizarre taste in men…but you do clean up remarkably well.”

“Thanks, dear brother. From you, that’s a sonnet.” She kisses his cheek. “Now, am I getting married today, or are you going to go on griping until poor Merlin concludes that I’ve eloped with Bayard?”

 The story of a wedding. Good!Morgana AU, Merlin/Morgana, PG/PG-13 because of Morgana’s sense of humor.  Family, fluff, laughter.  Follow link in title for the rest.

Day 14 of my fic-a-day New Year’s Project.

“No.” Not death. Not death with defeat and regret. Not for Arthur, the king who was once young and golden-haired and gave all of himself to his people.

Freya understands, and her voice is kind.

“This is his destiny, Merlin. He will sleep in peace, caught between the world of the dead and the world of the living. While he sleeps, time will stop for him. Albion will need him again, someday, and he’ll awaken when that day comes.”

“And what about me?” His voice is dull. “Do I just…lay down and die?” Does he really want to live, if Camelot and Arthur are gone?

She smiles at him, almost teasing, like a girl whose sweetheart plays the fool to make her laugh.

“No, Merlin. After all these years, don’t you know that your destiny is bound to Arthur’s?”

“Then…I sleep as well?” Sleep might be very welcome. The years since Merlin was a bright-eyed boy have been long, long and weary.

“Not quite. Hush, Merlin. They’re coming.”

 At the end of everything, Merlin meets Freya again. Darkness, character death, and a happy ending of sorts. Merlin/Freya, based on the legend, G/PG.  Follow link in title for the rest.

Day 14 of my fic-a-day New Year’s Project.

We keep the faith
In little cottages on mountaintops
Set apart from the kingdoms that we serve.
We look down from lonely heights
On Rohan’s plains and Gondor’s glories.
We watch the people pass below
Specks small with distance
But precious to us.
No lore-master sings a lay of the keepers of the beacons
Of how we wait through long years, ever watchful.
But we are proud to serve,
Sensible of the honor it is to be the keepers of these flames.

Click the link in the title for the rest.

I still remember watching RotK in theaters and spotting those little figures and being awestruck by their loyalty and devotion.  Inevitable that that would eventually find its way into a poem of some kind, I suppose. 

Day 12 of my New Year’s fic-a-day project.

He always knows that he’ll outlive everyone he loves. Just this once, though, he knows and he doesn’t have to pretend to deny it. He’s seen her die, watched the life leave her body before he ever really met her. And, because he’s seen her death, he can share her life without reservations. He can treasure every moment, and measure out the days with River like sand through an hourglass, every grain precious because he knows exactly how little he has left. No wondering, no doubts, no regrets. “You watch us run,” she told him, and he’s counting every step.

11/River.  Not quite angst, not quite fluff.  G/PG.  Part of my New Year’s fic-a-day project.  Click link in title for more.