Oh it's so beautiful, so touching, so sad.. I know that Arthur feels this way, no matter what writers say and I hope in s4 (but I doubt it) we'll have a glimpse of this sorrow.. I love the title and Neruda's poems! Compliments!
I thought I wouldn't have to leave you a comment, but after this, I absolutely must.
My favourite line:
He'd been so certain of her, sure that that look in her eyes would always push him towards greatness.
MTE, Arthur!
This seems like an Arthur introspection fic (as I deduced from the title), and still I hear Neruda chanelling Morgana. Brilliant <)
Not that he wants to discuss this with Merlin or anything.
*wibbles* And here we are, in the 21st century, taking shrinks for granted. Mocking them, even.
Arthur's post of responsibility is a position of great loneliness. So, no, he can't tell Merlin everything. He can't pour out the fullness of his heart to his manservant, much as he sees Merlin as an almost-friend.
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My favourite line:
He'd been so certain of her, sure that that look in her eyes would always push him towards greatness.
MTE, Arthur!
This seems like an Arthur introspection fic (as I deduced from the title), and still I hear Neruda chanelling Morgana. Brilliant <)
Not that he wants to discuss this with Merlin or anything.
*wibbles* And here we are, in the 21st century, taking shrinks for granted. Mocking them, even.
Arthur's post of responsibility is a position of great loneliness. So, no, he can't tell Merlin everything. He can't pour out the fullness of his heart to his manservant, much as he sees Merlin as an almost-friend.
Tell me your thoughts! :)
~Eva
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