Space Opera
Author: archaeologist_d
Title: Space Opera
Rating: PG
Pairing/s: none
Character/s: Merlin, Arthur, Leon, Gwaine
Summary: Leon’s voice wasn’t the best but singing an opera that Gwaine had composed, a space opera about dragons no less, was a step too far.
Warnings: fluff
Word Count: 1253
Camelot_drabble prompt 542: Confront
Author’s notes: have to do crack once in a while. Also Rupert Young’s voice is excellent. I saw him in Dear Evan Hanson and he was great.
Disclaimer: I do not own the BBC version of Merlin; They and Shine do. I am very respectfully borrowing them with no intent to profit. No money has changed hands. No copyright infringement is intended.
o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/
“Merlin!” Arthur shouted. “Where is that idiot?” Then he pulled the covers over his head, the pillow stuffed there somewhere, trying to shut out the noise.
His efforts drowned out the caterwauling somewhat but he could still hear bits and pieces of it and it was driving him mad. Where was Merlin? Knowing him, he’d be cheering on whoever was singing so dreadfully and not paying any attention to Arthur’s peace and quiet.
It took a while, Arthur shoving the pillows as tightly as he could against his head, trying to get comfortable enough to go back to sleep but it was to no avail, and finally Arthur got up and dressed himself, stomping down toward the warbling screeches, determined to stop the howling at any price.
And yes, there was Merlin, clapping as Leon, Sir Leon, Arthur’s First Knight, stopped his shrieking and took a bow.
“That was great, Leon. I didn’t know you knew opera,” Merlin said, grinning as if he’d won the tourney.
Opera? Leon knew opera? Why was this the first Arthur had heard of it? And why was it so awful? Wasn’t opera supposed to be melodious, the tragic tale of lovers against the world?
Leon’s face pinked a little. “Gwaine wrote it. I’m just using my modest talent to help him out.”
Arthur strode into the room. “Well, that explains a lot.” He was going to find Gwaine and send him to the farthest reaches of the kingdom as a reward for such talent. “Where is Gwaine anyway? Hiding out at the tavern?”
“No, my lord. He’s busy with correcting some of the plot holes in his newest piece,” Leon said, looking eager to find out what comes next in that cacophony of deranged melodies.
“Plot holes? There’s a story that goes with this?” Arthur said, trying not to sound incredulous. He didn’t want to offend Leon, a noble and steadfast knight, abet one whose voice could kill off their enemies just by the sound alone, but there was a limit.
“Of course, my lord,” Leon said, smiling. “In part one, the black knights, a fierce warrior cadre, have been sweeping through villages, destroying everything in the path, when dragons with their knight riders come along and save the kingdom.”
“That’s… that’s ridiculous. Dragons are dangerous monsters. Who would ride such creatures?” Arthur huffed out, unable to comprehend what Gwaine was doing. Turning what was common knowledge upside down?
Merlin cleared his throat. “Well, in some of the myths of old, they aren’t, just noble beings trying to survive. And they use their powers for good as do the dragon riders.”
“That’s… what was Gwaine thinking? They’re creatures of magic and need to be eradicated. No knight worth his salt would have anything to do with a dragon.” Arthur glared at Merlin.
Glaring right back, Merlin said, “Well, in this story, they’re nice. But the bad knights chase them off.”
“And good riddance,” Arthur replied.
“You… argh…, well, anyway, it’s the story of dragons and their riders searching the heavens for a new home. Flying through space, wandering among the colours of star dust to seek a place they could call their own,” Merlin insisted, glancing toward Leon. “Set to music. It’s experimental.”
“An opera in space? With good dragons and knights riding them? Are you mental?” Arthur stared at them both. It was obvious they had not thought it through. As if Arthur would ever allow an opera about space dragons to be performed at his court.
“That’s what Gwaine said you’d say. But he thought he’d put something in there about good King Arthur and how he would be the foremost of the riders, leading the space dragons to their new home and you… I mean whoever plays you would sing the aria about hope and home. You know, the finale. The best part.”
“Leon, you thought this was a good idea?” Arthur half-shouted, his head still reeling with the notion of riding a dragon of all things.
“Well, there are stories from long ago in Mercia of dragons and their knights, dragonlords who helped the helpless and spoke to dragons, and there were tales from ancient Greece, my lord, and some of the legends from the north country speak of noble dragons, and I thought…,” Leon stumbled to a stop.
“Well, I will certainly be discussing this with Gwaine,” Arthur snapped. “Until then, no more singing or opera or whatever the hell that was.”
And with that, he turned around and went stomping off to the tavern.
“Gwaine!”
-------------
Gwaine wasn’t in the tavern. As Leon had indicated, he was hard at work in his chambers, writing furiously on piles of parchment.
Shoving the door open, listening to it boom as it hit the wall, Arthur bellowed, “Gwaine!”
“Ah, princess, I was just about to start on your part. Can you sing high notes or should I make you a baritone?” Gwaine grinned, then wrote down something.
“I am not singing in some ridiculous opera about space dragons. Dragons are magic and therefore dangerous,” Arthur pointed out.
“Well, in the olden days, they helped the kingdom so… baritone or tenor?” Gwaine insisted.
“No dragons! Unless I’m there to kill them in this… this story of yours.” Arthur glared at him, not quite stamping his foot but close to it.
“Merlin won’t be happy. Have you discussed it with him?” Gwaine said, his pen still scratching away at the parchment.
“Merlin is an idiot. No dragons, Gwaine, I mean it,” Arthur said.
Shrugging, Gwaine inked out a few lines. “How about flying horses instead or unicorns?”
“Flying… horses? Are they real?” Arthur had never seen one before, but there were tapestries of them in the Gawant court, mythical creatures of legend. They were probably real, but he wasn’t sure.
“As real as unicorns,” Gwaine said, lifting one eyebrow as if to question Arthur’s argument. “As real as dragons.”
Arthur came to a decision. If Gwaine insisted on this, it should reflect the honour and dignity of Camelot and its nobility. At least with horses, flying or not, they would be gallant steeds and worthy of song. Not like dragons, good grief.
“Flying horses, it is then. And are you going to let Leon sing this… thing? His voice is… umm… unique,” Arthur said, not wishing to denigrate Leon but he had to think of his hearing. His ears were still ringing from Leon’s operatic cacophony. He wasn’t sure he could survive more of it.
“Leon is the best singer in Camelot. Unless you want to do it?” Gwaine smirked at him, then gave him a wink.
Even if Arthur was thinking about it, there was no way he’d agree to such a horror. “Bloody hell, no.”
“I’ll let you know when it’s done. I’m calling it Space Opera,” Gwaine winked again, laying one finger against his nose as if sharing a joke.
Wanting to go back to bed, this whole thing had been a disaster from the get go, Arthur said, “Fine, just practice somewhere I can’t hear any of it.”
Arthur stomped out again, certain that it was going to be a debacle. If he had any luck, there would be one performance and then it would be buried forever.
--------------
Everyone loved it, especially the part of a fake King Arthur riding off into the sunset on a white flying horse. And for years after, the music was sung by children and parents alike, at every damn festival and tourney.
Space opera indeed.
Title: Space Opera
Rating: PG
Pairing/s: none
Character/s: Merlin, Arthur, Leon, Gwaine
Summary: Leon’s voice wasn’t the best but singing an opera that Gwaine had composed, a space opera about dragons no less, was a step too far.
Warnings: fluff
Word Count: 1253
Camelot_drabble prompt 542: Confront
Author’s notes: have to do crack once in a while. Also Rupert Young’s voice is excellent. I saw him in Dear Evan Hanson and he was great.
Disclaimer: I do not own the BBC version of Merlin; They and Shine do. I am very respectfully borrowing them with no intent to profit. No money has changed hands. No copyright infringement is intended.
o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/
“Merlin!” Arthur shouted. “Where is that idiot?” Then he pulled the covers over his head, the pillow stuffed there somewhere, trying to shut out the noise.
His efforts drowned out the caterwauling somewhat but he could still hear bits and pieces of it and it was driving him mad. Where was Merlin? Knowing him, he’d be cheering on whoever was singing so dreadfully and not paying any attention to Arthur’s peace and quiet.
It took a while, Arthur shoving the pillows as tightly as he could against his head, trying to get comfortable enough to go back to sleep but it was to no avail, and finally Arthur got up and dressed himself, stomping down toward the warbling screeches, determined to stop the howling at any price.
And yes, there was Merlin, clapping as Leon, Sir Leon, Arthur’s First Knight, stopped his shrieking and took a bow.
“That was great, Leon. I didn’t know you knew opera,” Merlin said, grinning as if he’d won the tourney.
Opera? Leon knew opera? Why was this the first Arthur had heard of it? And why was it so awful? Wasn’t opera supposed to be melodious, the tragic tale of lovers against the world?
Leon’s face pinked a little. “Gwaine wrote it. I’m just using my modest talent to help him out.”
Arthur strode into the room. “Well, that explains a lot.” He was going to find Gwaine and send him to the farthest reaches of the kingdom as a reward for such talent. “Where is Gwaine anyway? Hiding out at the tavern?”
“No, my lord. He’s busy with correcting some of the plot holes in his newest piece,” Leon said, looking eager to find out what comes next in that cacophony of deranged melodies.
“Plot holes? There’s a story that goes with this?” Arthur said, trying not to sound incredulous. He didn’t want to offend Leon, a noble and steadfast knight, abet one whose voice could kill off their enemies just by the sound alone, but there was a limit.
“Of course, my lord,” Leon said, smiling. “In part one, the black knights, a fierce warrior cadre, have been sweeping through villages, destroying everything in the path, when dragons with their knight riders come along and save the kingdom.”
“That’s… that’s ridiculous. Dragons are dangerous monsters. Who would ride such creatures?” Arthur huffed out, unable to comprehend what Gwaine was doing. Turning what was common knowledge upside down?
Merlin cleared his throat. “Well, in some of the myths of old, they aren’t, just noble beings trying to survive. And they use their powers for good as do the dragon riders.”
“That’s… what was Gwaine thinking? They’re creatures of magic and need to be eradicated. No knight worth his salt would have anything to do with a dragon.” Arthur glared at Merlin.
Glaring right back, Merlin said, “Well, in this story, they’re nice. But the bad knights chase them off.”
“And good riddance,” Arthur replied.
“You… argh…, well, anyway, it’s the story of dragons and their riders searching the heavens for a new home. Flying through space, wandering among the colours of star dust to seek a place they could call their own,” Merlin insisted, glancing toward Leon. “Set to music. It’s experimental.”
“An opera in space? With good dragons and knights riding them? Are you mental?” Arthur stared at them both. It was obvious they had not thought it through. As if Arthur would ever allow an opera about space dragons to be performed at his court.
“That’s what Gwaine said you’d say. But he thought he’d put something in there about good King Arthur and how he would be the foremost of the riders, leading the space dragons to their new home and you… I mean whoever plays you would sing the aria about hope and home. You know, the finale. The best part.”
“Leon, you thought this was a good idea?” Arthur half-shouted, his head still reeling with the notion of riding a dragon of all things.
“Well, there are stories from long ago in Mercia of dragons and their knights, dragonlords who helped the helpless and spoke to dragons, and there were tales from ancient Greece, my lord, and some of the legends from the north country speak of noble dragons, and I thought…,” Leon stumbled to a stop.
“Well, I will certainly be discussing this with Gwaine,” Arthur snapped. “Until then, no more singing or opera or whatever the hell that was.”
And with that, he turned around and went stomping off to the tavern.
“Gwaine!”
-------------
Gwaine wasn’t in the tavern. As Leon had indicated, he was hard at work in his chambers, writing furiously on piles of parchment.
Shoving the door open, listening to it boom as it hit the wall, Arthur bellowed, “Gwaine!”
“Ah, princess, I was just about to start on your part. Can you sing high notes or should I make you a baritone?” Gwaine grinned, then wrote down something.
“I am not singing in some ridiculous opera about space dragons. Dragons are magic and therefore dangerous,” Arthur pointed out.
“Well, in the olden days, they helped the kingdom so… baritone or tenor?” Gwaine insisted.
“No dragons! Unless I’m there to kill them in this… this story of yours.” Arthur glared at him, not quite stamping his foot but close to it.
“Merlin won’t be happy. Have you discussed it with him?” Gwaine said, his pen still scratching away at the parchment.
“Merlin is an idiot. No dragons, Gwaine, I mean it,” Arthur said.
Shrugging, Gwaine inked out a few lines. “How about flying horses instead or unicorns?”
“Flying… horses? Are they real?” Arthur had never seen one before, but there were tapestries of them in the Gawant court, mythical creatures of legend. They were probably real, but he wasn’t sure.
“As real as unicorns,” Gwaine said, lifting one eyebrow as if to question Arthur’s argument. “As real as dragons.”
Arthur came to a decision. If Gwaine insisted on this, it should reflect the honour and dignity of Camelot and its nobility. At least with horses, flying or not, they would be gallant steeds and worthy of song. Not like dragons, good grief.
“Flying horses, it is then. And are you going to let Leon sing this… thing? His voice is… umm… unique,” Arthur said, not wishing to denigrate Leon but he had to think of his hearing. His ears were still ringing from Leon’s operatic cacophony. He wasn’t sure he could survive more of it.
“Leon is the best singer in Camelot. Unless you want to do it?” Gwaine smirked at him, then gave him a wink.
Even if Arthur was thinking about it, there was no way he’d agree to such a horror. “Bloody hell, no.”
“I’ll let you know when it’s done. I’m calling it Space Opera,” Gwaine winked again, laying one finger against his nose as if sharing a joke.
Wanting to go back to bed, this whole thing had been a disaster from the get go, Arthur said, “Fine, just practice somewhere I can’t hear any of it.”
Arthur stomped out again, certain that it was going to be a debacle. If he had any luck, there would be one performance and then it would be buried forever.
--------------
Everyone loved it, especially the part of a fake King Arthur riding off into the sunset on a white flying horse. And for years after, the music was sung by children and parents alike, at every damn festival and tourney.
Space opera indeed.