#magnvs

𝐀  𝐕𝐈𝐀𝐋  𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐃  𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐍  𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒  ,

          held  reverently  as  though  the   HOLY  GRAIL   itself  has  found  it’s  way  across  centuries   (   much  like  the  warlock  holding  it   )   and  come  to  rest  within  pale  palms .   a  potion   ...   of  sorts  .   the  liquid  a  swirl  of  purple ,   glittered  wisps  catching  the  light  with  every  minuscule  movement  of  his  hand .   within  the  glass ,   an  intricate  brew ,   one  he  has  been  working  on  for  the  past  few  months .

     there’s  a  hint  of  a  nervous  smile  gracing  full  lips  as  he  extends  the   GIFT   towards  the  other ,   awaiting  his  verdict ,   anticipation  almost  palpable  in  the  air  between  them .    

           THE  RAIN  WAS  RELENTLESS ,   descending  upon  the  city  of  london  with  abandon  and  no  hope  of  stopping  anytime  soon.  merlin  was  accustomed  to  such  conditions  and  yet  the  sudden  downpour  prompted  a  noise  of  surprise  to  part  his  lips  as  he  glanced  towards  his  companion.  ❛  welcome  to  england,  ❜  he  teases,  ❛  any  chance  you  have  an  umbrella  on  you  ?  ❜  but  even  as  his  dark  brows  raise  in  question,  blue  hues  are  darting  across  the  street  they  had  been  walking  on  in  search  of  a  way  out  to  the  little  problem.  eventually  they  settle  on  an  ENTERTAINING  solution.

          merlin  darts  across  the  street,  avoiding  the  rush  of  people  and  carriages  with  practiced  ease  though  his  boots  slip  more  than  once  on  the  fresh  mud,  barely  avoiding  a  disaster.  he  reaches  the  animal  tied  to  a  nearby  post  with  an  admittedly  UNGRACEFUL  skid,  grabbing  the  horses’  reigns  after  a  quick  glance  towards  the  nearby  establishment.  it  was  more  than  likely  that  the  owner  would  spend  the  night  there,  giving  merlin  enough  time  to  return  the  horse  before  anyone  notices.  in  any  case,  the  animal  didn’t  deserve  to  spend  all  night  in  the  freezing  rain.

“Magnus!” He uttered in surprise, closing the door behind him. “What brings you to my neck of the woods? It’s not an emergency is it?”

were it possible for christian to never leave his small room in his small flat, he wouldn’t. he’d sit there forever and write his story until there was nothing at all more to write. maybe not even that. perhaps he would just sit on his small bed and stare at the walls covered in papers, let himself lie there until he turned to dust. but as it was, he could not afford to do that. not unless he wanted to starve, or to end up thrown out on the streets for not paying his rent. 

already his mind is back at his typewriter as he walks down the street. so much so that it takes a few moments for his brain to catch up with what his eyes are already seeing. and just like that, he freezes, rooted to the spot. MAGNUS. the suddenness and realization of his presence is so overwhelming, christian nearly cries. 

START BY WIPING THE BLOOD OFF HIS CHIN

AND PRETENDING TO UNDERSTAND

          FLUSHED  AND  A’  GLOW  !  As  if  spring  had  come  twice  . An  ingenue  ‘pon  a  throne  of  lilies  .  All  blood  spilt  washed  away  with  cherry  wine  and  faerie  favors  .   One  Queen  becomes  one  with  EARTH  while  the  next  rises  to  claim  the  fallen  crown  .  Songs  of  triumph  and  treachery  sung  in  her  honor  .   Yet  she  knew  better  than  to  give  into  the  celebratory  atmosphere  for  she  so  readily  had  placed  a  target  on  her  back  . A  squabble  for  power  that  she  would  not  yield  to  but  for  the  evening  she  would  choose  to  forget  .  

         To  her  chambers  she  retires  fleeing  to  the  balcony’s  edge  .  Nixies  begging  to  attend  on  her  DEVOTEDLY  yet  she  does  away  with  them  all  .  The  comforting  chill  of  night  embraces  her  as  she  settles  on  the  balcony’s  edge  .  Something  sweet  is  picked  up  by  the  passing  breeze  .   Rich  and  distinct  ,  something  which  grips  the  heart  so  !    ❛  You  smell  so  deeply  of  magic  ,  it  always  did  used  to  sooth  my  soul  .  ❜   Now  it  did  so  much  the  opposite  .  Delicate  as  she  appeared  ,  the  seelie  was  no  fragile  forest  nymph           Yet  ,  she  felt  very  much  akin  to  one  given  the  reappearance  of  the  warlock  after  a  great  deal  of  decades  ,  all  that  time  stood  before  them  now  .  Given  their  ageless  plight  something  so  mundane  should  be  meaningless  to  creatures  such  as  themselves  .  O’  but  even  she  was  not  above  longing  !