Letters

Letters 

I don't know where this came from but I had to write it down. I want to know more and honestly I need to know if this idea can take me anywhere. Maybe  I will start from the beginning of Harry and James' relationship and see where it takes me. 

As always, Hope you like it 

May xxx

P.S The first lines are from the song 'Dear Darling' by Olly Murs  

Dear Lieutenant   

Please excuse my writing, I can’t stop my hands from shaking because I’m cold and I’m alone tonight. A dark figure wrote, but the ink was blotchy and ran off the page. The room shook again and was a blaze with a fierce orange light, however the figure in the corner of the small attic room hardly flinched. He kept writing almost frantic now, the small light from a flicking candle almost toppled over as the room shook again.  I miss you, and I haven’t slept since I last saw you.  My dreams are plagued with your face; we did a lot together didn’t we? I certainly learnt a lot from you. Do you remember that night by the lake? When I punched you? It’s all I can think about since you left, because that’s when it all began, this stupid adventure that you dragged me through, but I don’t regret a single moment; it ruined and revived me. You made my life begin darling, and I don’t regret anything, even now as I’m writing in an old attic room, with the world falling around me. I know I promised you I would never be cliché but all I have ever wanted is to be with you, and you never saw that. I know you believed I needed more, but you were all that I needed, I need you to know that. But now its dark, and everyone is telling me to leave, your not coming, I’m not going to see you again, and the worst part is that maybe their right and you don’t want me anymore. I’ve forgiven you and I don’t blame you for not wanting me, and yet I will not leave. I’ve got no place to go, and why should it matter? I will be gone from this world sooner rather than later. I just wanted to see you, one last time my love. But no matter, England will not fall tonight. My death will prevent thousands of lives from suffering, and what was it you used to say "The Needs Of Many Outweigh The Needs Of One." You were right all along… it is not illogical to try and save one at the risk of so many.  

James, the man of barley twenty-eight, squinted at the writing trying to make sure it was the right words to end a relationship that had swallowed his whole life. But it was all too late and now he wished he had told him these words long ago, before this war, before it was all too late to say goodbye.

I love you and please my dearest, never forget me. This is not a letter of guilt, but rather one to say goodbye. One to remind you to remember me not as you see me now, but as I was that first summer, before all of it… before the lies, the deceit and the running. Before… before the fight… back in the hotel room over looking the village in Atlandsa, I hope you remember that night? Because it’s the only memory that has kept me alive these last couple of months, and I hope the memory of my lips keep you awake as much as they have kept me up in the cold night, here in Densia.

Forever yours

JAMES

“James! We can’t stay here any longer, we need to move.” Jenny came hurrying into the small attic room above her house. James looked up almost lost in the memories of warm blue skies and the feeling of the grass beneath his fingertips, and lips that were sweet with the taste of strawberries. But that memory had happened so long ago James had trouble remembering if it was all just a dream. And then it hit him, he knew in that moment that he would never see those green eyes or hear the warm laugh again, tears filled his bright blue eyes in the gloom, but he was strong he would not fall after coming so far for the man who would not say goodbye.  

“I can’t leave. He wouldn’t want me to leave. "The needs of many outweigh the needs of one.” He whispered the line again, a line that was almost becoming a chant on his dry, cracked lips. Gone was the boy of twenty full of life and ready to fight for his country and what he believed in. What was left, a mere eight years later, was a man who could have been seventy, living in a past that was a lot lighter and had no mention of pain.

“James listen to me, it’s been four hours. He isn’t coming.”

“I know” the man said tiredly, and felt the tears, which he had tried to stem, form once again in his eyes. “But I can’t leave. You have to go, I cannot keep you safe any longer.” She had tears in her eyes as well. His heart broke for her, they had become close over the last year, but he would not let her fall into the trap he was now ensnared in.

“You need to go there is nothing here any longer” he stood and hugged her gently as she placed fragile arms around his broad shoulders.

“James come with us, its not too late…” he shook his head before she could carry on, he didn’t want her to break the resolve that his chant had barely created. “I cant you know that,” he swallowed grasping the letter tightly in his hand. “But would you give him this letter? I mean only if you see him or if he comes to find you?” he asked, and was ashamed to find that his voice shook with suppressed grief. Jenny gently took the letter from his shaking hand and he watched as she placed it carefully in her coat pocket. The room shook once again and he grabbed hold of the chair to stop himself from hurting the frail woman in front of his broad form. It was time for her to leave, he gently walked her to the trap door which led to the rest of the house and then with one final frightened look she fled. This town would soon be turned to ash, but he was happy to let it crumple around him. They had found him and he would not fight any longer, he had nothing left to fight for, let ashes turn to ashes.  

Yet James felt weak and hated it. He had never been a weak man. He had always been a leader to the men that had followed him into the battlefield. Yet Harry O’Shay had changed the whole world around and there was no way he could right it again. Once Harry was gone, James had run and tried so hard to not look back, but life was now dull and meaningless without him. There was no future with or without the man who had strolled into his life all those years ago, and now, as James looked around him at the destroyed house with the sound of the air raid going off outside, he knew that there really was no turning back now. He will be safe, England will not fall, and your mother did not die in vain. This sentence had become the only thing keeping him locked in this room, as the sinking realization that Harry was not coming to his rescue seeped in. A nasty voice inside of his head whispered he has given up on you, like everyone else. James Riley, a hero? Give me a god dam break. But the voice was right; it was his fault, everything that had happened was his Goddamn fault. Why hadn’t he listened to Harry all those moths ago? And why for the life of him did he face this terrible problem alone without the comforting hand in his? But James held on to the idea that his lover would live even with the Riley line dying out with him. And maybe, just maybe, there was an after life. James smiled as he thought of his men and how they used to tease James about his idealistic ideas about there being something more than just the darkness of closing your eyes for eternal sleep. 

Harry’s hand shook as he read the letter, his own howl of pain ripped through the quite undisturbed churchyard. He was back in England, finally back with the one he loved, but he had let James down. The letter had come too late, and by the time Harry had frantically arrived at the small village in which the letter described there was nothing left. His hands shook, as his body trembled with grief, but the comforting hand on his shoulder annoyed him. No one understood what they went through, James had tried everything in his power to be allowed to be with the one he loved in this hypocritical world that had done everything to destroy them. James had done everything to keep them together but in a moment of pure stupidity it had been Harry who had left James sleeping in that grim Hotel room after their fight. this thought made Harry's knees go weak and he fell to the floor.

However he would not fail James again, he would not become the Enobarbus of this story. He would take up his lovers place and fight where he had left off. This morning the war had ended, and Harry knew, even if the world did not, that it was because of his lover. Their destinies really hand been intertwined long before the war, long before they had even met. Destiny, fate or even God, whatever you wanted to call it, Harry had ceased to care after the horrors of war, which, had seemed to burn all that was left of his faith, or so he had believed.  Yet with the burial of the only person he had ever truly let inside of his walls, he found himself pleading almost begging, to anyone or anything that may slightly care about what was happening on this violent planet called earth, that James was safe, comfortable and happy. Harry knew this was the least his general deserved, with the sacrifice that he had made to and for his country. He truly was the best man there ever was, and although Harry had no medal or trophy to give his lover, he knew that James’ team, who were waiting for Harry to come back from the side of James’ grave, knew what a true hero he was. James Riley did not die in Vain as Harry O'Shay would always remember the man he loved as a hero and the legend of the team who had lost their leader would last a long time after the members had joined him in the earth.  

Fix You

More Merthur 

I know more merthur, but I was watching this video (at the bottom) and I couldn't help it I had to write something. And maybe just maybe oneday my obsession with Merlin will fade away, but I secretly hope not =D 

Thanks For Reading 

Mayxx

Fix You 

I lost everything that day. Even now the image of his face still is imprinted on my eyelid when they close. I need him, and I still believe he needs me. When I lost him I felt empty, no that’s not right, I still feel hollow, empty, lost even. I have nothing anymore, but I tried, I tried so hard. Yet sometimes there is no happy ever after and people fail. I failed.

It haunts me. When I found out that Gwaine didn’t make it through the battle we had all be fighting for two long, I think the last string that was holding me together snapped. I left that night, after I told Gwen the truth. I will never go back there, I’m too much of a coward to stroll around the castle pretending everything is okay, when I’ve lost the one thing that I truly loved.

 Yes, I loved my king more than anyone or anything. He was my King and I was his lion heart, I would have done anything for him. And do you want to know the thought that seems to kill me more each day? It’s that I promised, I promised I would protect him or die at his side, but I neither protected him, or died by him.  Destiny cursed me with the gift of immortality, as I had to watch everyone and everything I knew disappear and change before my eyes. The pain still haunts me all these years later, that I failed, I let my king die.  Again i have tried to return to him, but every time I think I’ve done it, I’ve succeeded in seeing the final light and the end of the darkness, I find myself back in my old bruised body. Destiny tortures me further for my mistakes by shoving me back on the edge of the lake where I lost him. Where I let his body drift with the rest of them, the ones I was unable to protect. The lake where everything fell to pieces, lake Albion.  

The Heart Of Texas

Hey guys

I'm so sorry I haven't written for ages and I know I said that before, but its my exams at the moment so I guess I will be busy for a while. I tried writing but nothing I wrote sounded good enough to go on to the blog so it remains empty for the near future, but on a different note I just read an amazing book called "In the heart of Texas" by R.J Scott. It was full of drama and romance and i could not put it down, it was amazing. So i'm hoping to write something about my new obsession, which is.... Riley and Jack, just something full of fluff.  =D

But until then i'm sorry to leave you empty handed.

May xx

Two Thrones

Do you remember when I posted Two Thrones ages ago?
Well I wanted to take it somewhere, because the story kept coming back to me, and i could not get it out of my head and thats usually a sign that its a good idea.
so last week I was board and I began to write more of the story and i'm hoping that this will go somewhere as it keeps growing every time I look at it.

Like Always Guys please Review

May xxx

P.s If you want to read it on Fanfictionpress. net please do my name is Rebel

Well.....Heres part 2

Enjoy ;)

Part 2

Arthur drove through the gates that towered above him. The drive leading up to the country house they owned in Surrey, which was better than living in the stifling atmosphere of Buckingham palace. Arthur couldn’t stop thinking about the boy in the café, and with a sinking heart he realised he would probably never see Tony again. Sam had found Arthur still in deep conversation with Tony and the three of them had spoken for a while. It was nice to feel normal for a change rather than having the constant threat of the other brother hanging over his head. Sam slid easily into the conversation they had both been having and kept any Royal lifestyle out of the conversation. As Arthur gave his a quick grateful smile he once again thanked the Gods that Sam was on his side. Sam had always been there for him, through all of the disapproving glares from his father, and the…. But his thoughts stopped there. He wasn’t going to think about his twin brother, Eric, he was away from London and away from his brothers piecing blue eyes. Arthur and Eric had never seen eye to eye, although they were twins, they couldn’t be more different. Arthur was blond while Eric was dark haired; Arthur was light whereas Eric was dark and in all aspects strove to be the “ perfect King,” whatever the fuck that meant. The only thing they shared was the piecing blue colour of their eyes, but Arthur had always noticed the difference in those as well. Eric’s were hard and cold like Ice, whereas Arthur’s were warm like the sea on a hot day. To the press they were both seen as the golden boys, both handsome and brought up to be gentlemen, and everyone looked up to them from the day that they were born. Their beloved mother, the queen of England, had passed away a few months after their first Birthday because of a fatal illness. It had been a tragedy that had swept Briton up in turmoil and that was when the rivalry begun. It had always been asked, with two twin boys who would be the heir to the thrown? Although Arthur should have been the first choice as he strove to help others and tried to understand the rules of the law from a young age. However  his brother was always the one that everyone adored, Arthur was shoved to the side as Eric smirked his way through the press interviews. Arthur had never liked his brother, he had never told anyone but his brother scared him. He saw Eric differently from others. He could see the way Eric manipulated the people around him while casting the blame on his twin brother. There was no real reason to be afraid and Arthur in the logical part of his brain understood that, but even now when he was twenty one his brothers gaze made tiny hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. It was the subtle things that used to make Arthur shiver. When they were young, it was the odd sentence that wouldn’t sit right in the conversation or the stories he used to tell Arthur about the medieval times. Eric was fascinated with all things horror related, however when he told his father this he just laughed and then the glare that was always fixated on Arthur came back into play. Arthur truly was the only one to see the darkness in his brother, apart from Sammy.

He remembered clearly one night, when he was fourteen, dreaming of a field. It was dark but the moon and the stars shone brightly illuminating the water that babbled as it rushed over the rocks. On one side of the field sat his brother, on a stone throne in amongst the brambles, watching him. The shadows seemed to reach out towards him and his eyes gleamed an unnatural blue in the gloom that was surrounding him. What made Arthur start was the black wings that beat softly as the shadows caressed his brother’s body. He looked down at his body, and where Eric drew in the darkness, Arthur glowed a bright silver like the moon. Lights pooled around his fingertips and he could feel the soft flutter of wigs beating with the pulse of his heartbeat. He could feel the life of the stream and almost hear the moon whispering to him. The moon whispered words over and over ‘Arthur… Arthur listen to me! Your other will try to take the one that makes you whole in any way he can. You must find him first as your Brother cannot achieve this, as darkness will once again rule if he should succeed. You must become King, Arthur; it has been written in the stars since the beginning of time.’ These words echoed in Arthur’s head over and over, as he stared at his brothers figure, watching as the darkness lapped at his body. He had seen the darkness in his brother for a long time and although Arthur knew this was a dream, there was suddenly hope, as for the first time Eric was not the chosen child, someone could see the darkness that Arthur saw every day. When he had woken he had not told his father, he knew that this was something he must never tell anyone. 

He realised finally why the thought of his brother ruling over Britain made his skin crawl. As they had grown older Arthur had done everything in his power to try and be one step ahead. Eric had a taste for warfare and begun to plot with his father how to make Brittan stronger under the false pretence of peace, yet Arthur understood Eric wanted to see Brittan in battle once more. However as Arthur grew up and learned that the public only saw a golden boy in Eric, he began to make a plan on how to turn the focus away from himself, make himself a worthless case, a person Eric would not see as a threat. And so the while the press wrote over and over about how one day Eric would be their king, Arthur understood the only way he could get the upper hand was to faked being the wayward child. Only Sam knew that late at night Arthur would spend hours working with his close five closet friends, who were loyal to Arthur and saw Eric as the enemy.  As a joke they called themselves the knights of the round table, and somehow it had stuck. Arthur’s friends had been with him for as long as he could remember and he knew as he got out of the car that they would be waiting for him in the drawing room of the large house. 

I know its only short but i'm working on the next part and should be up ASAP

Merlin How it should have ended Part 2

Hey guys 

I'm so sorry I haven't written anything lately 

but I have been posting on Fanfiction.net. 

Again I'm so sorry its sad and I should have probably said that is Tragedy but i think its more Hurt/ Comfort.

As always plz comment and I will post more 

 May xxxxx   

Chapter 2

It had been nearly a month since they had returned to Camelot. Merlin and Arthur sat on one of the turret building looking at the dark sky above. The month had been one of the best of Merlin’s life, Camelot was at peace, and he had used the last of his magic to make sure it was kept that way. Being court sorcerer meant that Merlin had to stay at his King’s side, however didn’t have to do the chores he detested.

Arthur sat watching the stars as the breeze played with his hair. It was a beautiful mid summer night and Arthur, looking over the candle lit kingdom with his best friend besides him, realised why they were calling it the ‘Golden Age.’ He smiled to himself, Merlin and Arthur had become close, closer than they had ever been; the bond between them was strong, with no secret in the way, Arthur made sure they spoke about everything. The knights had accepted Merlin’s magic just like Arthur had, apprehensive at first, but seeing Merlin’s loyalty to his king could not hold a bad word against him. Gwaine was still saying that he had always known about Merlin’s magic, and as Arthur started thinking about it, he had noticed the narrow escapes. He blushed, as he realised he always thought it as providence or an angels listening to his prayers.  He chuckled to himself as he looked at his best friend, Merlin the guardian angel.

“What you laughing about.’ Merlin asked sleepily as he rested his head on the raised stonewall.

“I was just thinking about you being my guardian angel and how crazy it sounds.”

Merlin smiled at him lazily, “You’d be dead without me.”

“I know,” he said seriously. Merlin had finally told Arthur everything after he had threatened, half jokingly, to put him in the stocks if he did not tell him about the magic over the last ten years. Hearing about his father’s death had been the hardest part, but he understood, Morgana had always been one step ahead of them. Merlin was not to blame about the amulet; Arthur could also see how devastated the man was even after all these years. 

Following that long night Arthur had made magic legal over his kingdom and embraced the druid’s friendship. Camelot was truly shining in its Golden Age. The wizarding world was standing with Arthur, they were behind him and Albion was truly united.  

The bell chimed midnight as Merlin yawned. They had been with Gwaine and the other knights in the tavern. After a few hours of mindless chatter and some magical party tricks from Merlin, where the whole tavern had joined in the excitement, Merlin began to feel lightheaded with joy, people where cheering him for something that had always kept repressed and hidden.

He had laughed with the rest of the knights and his king suddenly realising how content he truly was. He had told Gaius about the sacrifice and although his mentor kept looking for anything to help, Merlin already knew it was useless. At that moment though he didn’t think about what was coming, he hadn’t been this content and carefree since…. Well ever. He had his friends and magic was free, he had achieved his destiny. Magic was accepted and the druids would work with Arthur to keep it safe, he had spoken to them as Emyrus just to make certain.

Merlin awoke early the next day and went downstairs to get the King and Queen’s breakfast. The sun was still rising above the mountains around the kingdom. It was going to be another beautiful summers day. Merlin hummed as he made his way back to the Kings chambers to find Peter, Arthurs new manservant, running past him, who froze staring at Merlin with the tray in his hands.

‘I’m so sorry,’ peter mumbled looking at his shoes, “I woke up late.”

“Again?” Merlin asked with a raised eyebrow, but at peters weathered look he grinned. “You go to the kitchen and get yourself some breakfast I don’t mind giving Arthur… I mean the King, his Breakfast.” He remembered when he had started the job all those years ago and how hellish the mornings could be.

“Merlin, Thank you,” Peter grinned and then without even thinking about he bowed to Merlin. Merlin stared but Peter just ran off towards the kitchen.

He kept reminding himself that he wasn’t a servant anymore, but court sorcerer who slept down the hall from the King. 

As Merlin barged through the Arthur’s doors and noisily placed the King’s breakfast on the table, Gwen smiled. Peter was great but it was nice to wake up to the sound of Merlin rustling around the room, while her husband grumbled abuse into his pillow.

Merlin drew back the curtains and streams of sunlight illuminated the bedroom, “Merlin!” the King wined.

“Yes sire?” he answered innocently. Gwen chuckled softly to herself as she gracefully left the bedroom to find her lady maids. After being Queen for five years she had finally become accustomed to being doted on, however she still liked to mend her own clothes and help Arthur whenever she could. She would not let herself be completely waited upon; it was not in her nature.

Arthur was secretly glad to find his Manservant, he meant, court sorcerer, waking him up. It had been their routine for ten years and Arthur missed it. He made sure that he kept Merlin close at all times, so not much had changed however the morning wake up calls were no longer by Merlin, but Arthur was glad to find him grinning wickedly as he opened the curtains wider to let sunlight stream over the bed.

When Arthur was finally dressed and eating with his wife, he pulled out a chair for Merlin, an invitation to sit down.  Merlin looked startled at first but then tentatively took the seat next to the King. Arthur pretended not to notice the hesitation, however as Gwen spoke to Merlin about her day, Arthur thought about all the times he had wished he had shown his friendship a little more to the man who sat beside him grinning at the story Gwen was telling. 

   

Merlin had felt fine the last month, and wouldn’t have thought that his time was nearly up unless he had kept track of the days rushing past. He tried to cling to every memory and sitting with Arthur and Gwen as the sun illuminated the room was definitely one he would cling on to. As Peter came in to clear away the empty plates and Merlin followed Arthur down to the practice field he began to feel a burning sensation in his stomach. At first he tried to brush it off, however it grew worse and his vision began to black around the edges. He gripped the wall as his body instinctively curled upon itself. He couldn’t think anymore as the pain traveled to his chest and he coughed violently.

   

Arthur was grinning widely and they made their way to find the rest of the knights. He couldn’t remember smiling as much as he had over the last month. Merlin stopped abruptly and Arthur turned to make a jibe, but his smile fell as he saw his friend hunched over himself, gripping the wall for support. His face was screwed in pain and Arthur could see that he was shaking. His mind went blank in horror. Merlin had been fine they had been laughing a few minuets ago, but as Merlin coughed splattering blood on the wall, Arthur realised the calm, which had descended had finally given away to the storm.    

Tumblr

TUMBLR

Hi Guys

Tumblr I guess its my other blog, I'm just trying to see whats out there. The reason I started it in the first place was so I could see everyones Fan videos on Youtube, but somehow its morphed to this place where I vent all my ideas.

If anyone has a Tumblr account it would be great to follow you.
So like normal leave a review and I'll see your Tumblr blog

Heres my link follow me: http://www.tumblr.com/blog/abiwalton
Thanks

MAY XXXX





I Loved this pic thought it summed up
Tumblr really well xx

Camlann

I wanted To Put This Amazing Picture In The Last Post But As I can't Here Will Have To Do.

This Picture Makes Me think Of How Arthur Would Feel After Losing His Best Friend After The Events At Camlann.

Its Not Mine But From The Website DeviantART