Fic Title: Went Walking in a Funny Little Forest
Link: Went Walking in a Funny Little Forest
Genre: General romance/friendship
Why This Must Be Read: After Merlin and Morgana have to leave Camelot for their own safety, they find the forest very... interesting. Oh, this is just beautiful. The Morgana/Merlin interaction is the driving force of this fic, but there are Arthur/Morgana/Merlin scenes in here that just make you sniffle. Morgana's voice is so good here, as Merlin and Morgana are forced to escape Camelot after Uther finds out about their abilities. The trek through the forest ends up unveiling a lot about them and their dynamic, and the author has such a pretty way with words.
In the past the Spartans would leave a young boy in the wild to strengthen the boy’s constitution.
In the future Native Americans will do spirit walks to understand the mysteries of themselves and nature.
This journey isn’t quite the latter or the former. It’s well, something magical and really quite trying. Anyway neither Merlin and Morgana know about the Spartans or Native Americans.
It starts like this:
That first night they find a place suitably hidden by the trees and sit by a fire Merlin conjures and do not speak for a long time, the spell to escape the dungeons has exhausted them enough that it’s not allowing them to worry about moving quite yet. Morgana watches a Merlin pokes the fire with a stick and the embers fly into the air. In firelight Merlin looks otherworldly, the shadows highlight the sharpness of his cheekbones and nose, his eyes look more golden than blue as if the fire is only bringing out what he hides and she can feel the longing for Camelot in him. Maybe it’s her own longing, a voice whispers. She reaches out and covers her hand with his, smiling when he starts a bit and turns to stare at her.
“We should sleep.”
He blinks, once, twice, before he nods, “I’ll take first watch.” He moves a bit and lays down the thin jacket he’s wearing on the ground and smiles at her. She goes to argue but there’s something in his eyes that stops her. It’s the same look Arthur gets when he’s trying and she bites her tongue. She whispers a quiet thank you and goes to lie down.
Men, men like Merlin and Arthur, try so far to be good, to do good, and she can hold back the roll of her eyes. This time at least, and to be honestly, it was rather sweet of Merlin to try and offer her comfort, however small.
“Do not forget to wake me, Merlin. You require rest as well,” she half orders, half warns him, smirking when he agrees, clearly planning to ignore her. If she’s feeling any sympathy for Arthur she’ll never admit it.