Leather and Lace
Author: archaeologist_d
Title: Leather and Lace
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/s: none
Character/s: Cenred, Morgause
Summary: Cenred never wanted to be a warlord. Fashion was more his style.
Word Count: 433
Camelot_drabble Prompt: 489: makeover
Author's Notes: unbetaed, crack. I based it on Tom Ellis complaining about his Cenred leather outfit, saying he could barely move and certainly couldn’t reach behind in order to pull out the swords strapped to his back.
Disclaimer: Merlin characters are the property of Shine and BBC. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
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Cenred never wanted to be a warlord. More interested in leather and lace than sword-fighting, still, when his father died and Cenred’s life threatened, the family business became his. It was easy enough. After all, the fashion industry was cut-throat and all he had to do was actually cut some throats and no more rivals.
How hard could warlording be when compared to that?
But his heart wasn’t in it. Blood stains were so hard to get out of leather, and the lace underneath grew stiff when gore seeped in and dried. It itched, too. So, he ordered his henchman to do the dirty work and all Cenred had to do was look threatening.
It worked most of the time.
But there were frustrating days when he needed to be hip-deep in blood and guts, pretending to listen to the screams of his victims just to prove to his henchmen that he was in charge. Sometimes, the fools grew a little restless and above themselves, plotting his demise, and Cenred couldn’t have that. After all, even someone interested in fashion knew how to wield scissors, and they were just sharp, pointy things that produced a satisfying squelch when shoved into helpless bodies.
Luckily, as his reputation grew and Morgause came into his life, he was able to carve out some free time and come up with new creations. It was too bad his tailors were incompetent. He’d ordered them to make one of his better designs-really stunning if he did say so himself, but when they’d finished and dressed him in it, all leather and straps, he could barely move. He certainly couldn’t pull his swords out easily, and everyone knew that a warlord must always be able to wield a sword.
At least their screams were satisfying.
But still, their blood stained the leather which was always a bother. Perhaps his dangerous but exceedingly gorgeous sorceress could rub them out with a bit of magic. She was pliant enough, letting him deal with his kingdom while she was off doing something or other with Camelot’s demise. Perhaps he should design something for her that showed her just how much he enjoyed her company. And reminded her just who was in charge.
With that, he was off sketching his newest creation, ordering up the fabrics, insisting that his new tailors prepare the masterpiece to be presented to Morgause upon her return. He was sure she would be delighted and reward him with the heads of his enemies or a bolt of silk damask.
After all, it was good to be the king.
Title: Leather and Lace
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/s: none
Character/s: Cenred, Morgause
Summary: Cenred never wanted to be a warlord. Fashion was more his style.
Word Count: 433
Camelot_drabble Prompt: 489: makeover
Author's Notes: unbetaed, crack. I based it on Tom Ellis complaining about his Cenred leather outfit, saying he could barely move and certainly couldn’t reach behind in order to pull out the swords strapped to his back.
Disclaimer: Merlin characters are the property of Shine and BBC. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
-------------------
Cenred never wanted to be a warlord. More interested in leather and lace than sword-fighting, still, when his father died and Cenred’s life threatened, the family business became his. It was easy enough. After all, the fashion industry was cut-throat and all he had to do was actually cut some throats and no more rivals.
How hard could warlording be when compared to that?
But his heart wasn’t in it. Blood stains were so hard to get out of leather, and the lace underneath grew stiff when gore seeped in and dried. It itched, too. So, he ordered his henchman to do the dirty work and all Cenred had to do was look threatening.
It worked most of the time.
But there were frustrating days when he needed to be hip-deep in blood and guts, pretending to listen to the screams of his victims just to prove to his henchmen that he was in charge. Sometimes, the fools grew a little restless and above themselves, plotting his demise, and Cenred couldn’t have that. After all, even someone interested in fashion knew how to wield scissors, and they were just sharp, pointy things that produced a satisfying squelch when shoved into helpless bodies.
Luckily, as his reputation grew and Morgause came into his life, he was able to carve out some free time and come up with new creations. It was too bad his tailors were incompetent. He’d ordered them to make one of his better designs-really stunning if he did say so himself, but when they’d finished and dressed him in it, all leather and straps, he could barely move. He certainly couldn’t pull his swords out easily, and everyone knew that a warlord must always be able to wield a sword.
At least their screams were satisfying.
But still, their blood stained the leather which was always a bother. Perhaps his dangerous but exceedingly gorgeous sorceress could rub them out with a bit of magic. She was pliant enough, letting him deal with his kingdom while she was off doing something or other with Camelot’s demise. Perhaps he should design something for her that showed her just how much he enjoyed her company. And reminded her just who was in charge.
With that, he was off sketching his newest creation, ordering up the fabrics, insisting that his new tailors prepare the masterpiece to be presented to Morgause upon her return. He was sure she would be delighted and reward him with the heads of his enemies or a bolt of silk damask.
After all, it was good to be the king.