Painting the Pig - part 1
Author: archaeologist_d
Title: Painting the Pig - part 1
Rating: PG
Pairing/s: none
Character/s: Merlin, Will, Hunith, Old Man Simmons
Summary:. Merlin was in trouble again with that stupid pig of old Man Simmons.
Warnings: none
Word Count:795
Camelot_drabble prompt 551: Paint
Author’s notes: none. I can't seem to stop writing longer pieces. Sigh. A companion piece to Sewing Skills. https://archiveofourown.org/works/46585450
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/
Hunith knew the second Tomos Simmons screeched out Merlin’s name that it was going to be one of those days.
Her boy had been remarkably quiet the last few weeks, especially after the dressing-the-pig incident. Not that he’d put the pig in that dress, but worse, that he’d planned to do it behind her back and with that scamp, Will, egging him on. It was a good thing she’d caught him before the whole village ended up chasing Simmons’s pig around.
She wasn’t sure her heart could take it.
While she loved Merlin more than she could say, still sometimes he drove her crazy. The magic, of course, was the main issue. He was too careless with it, no matter how many times she’d admonished him to keep it hidden. Too often, when he thought she wasn’t looking, he’d be making little dragons out of firelight or getting a stick doll to dance or even growing a flower in her garden in mid-winter.
But he was also lonely. The other children could sense something about him, often turning their backs on him or excluding him from games. Some of the older ones would rough him up, and once she’d come back from the well to find him crying and sporting a fairly large bruise on his cheek.
She raised hell with their parents but it just isolated Merlin more. So she couldn’t just tell Merlin to stay away from Will.
If only Will wasn’t such a troublemaker.
Thinking that perhaps she should find out what Simmons was yelling about, she started to put down her sewing when Merlin came bursting into the hut, covered in paint.
Except not really paint. They certainly couldn’t afford such a luxury. Instead it looked more like mud that had been mixed with dyes, yellows and iron-reds and a grassy-green.
But before she could tell Merlin to clean up outside, he said, “I didn’t do it. I swear.”
Not the words she wanted to hear. Ignoring the shouting outside, she said, “So what happened?”
“It wasn’t my fault. I was trying to help. Me and Will, after that thing with the pig and the dress and you being mad and all, we figured we’d steer clear of Simmons and his stupid pig. But the… well, Gethin and Cardoc, they’ve been… umm, following us around and… I didn’t want to upset you and… it’s their fault,” Merlin said, ending with a near shout, waving his hand toward the door.
“That you are covered in mud?” Hunith tried to rein in her anger. Much as Merlin got into trouble, he rarely lied and if those two bullies were at it again, she would be having more than a few words with their parents. Enough was enough.
“Me and Will saw Cardoc let out Isabelle and you know how Mr Simmons is. He’d blame us sure as anything. So we figured if we got her back in her pen, it would be alright. But,” Merlin stopped, wiping away some of the coloured mud and trying to clean it off by using his soaked tunic. It just made things worse. “She’s fast and when we got her headed in the right direction, Gethin jumped out, screeching like he’d stepped on a bee or something, and she went tearing into Molly’s laundry, tipping over the dye vats and I tried to stop her, really I did, Mum, but I slid in the mud and… things.”
“Oh, Merlin.” Hunith wanted to hug him. He looked absolutely miserable, but he was still filthy and it was likely she’d never get his clothes clean again, mostly going into the rag pile.
“I’m sorry, Mum,” Merlin said, wiping his face again, a few tears making tracks down his cheeks. “Am I in trouble?”
“No, absolutely not,” she said, resolute and thinking of what she needed to do next. “But we’ll have to find Tomos Simmons and explain the situation. Is Isabelle back in her pen?”
“But he’ll blame me and Will,” Merlin whined, then looked down at his feet. “No, she’s still wandering. But Molly’s in a tear.”
“I’m sure she is. I just hope some of it can be recovered. Dyes are expensive and I don’t have enough money to cover her costs and neither does she,” Hunith said, giving a little sigh.
“I could… you know, maybe put some of the dyes back in the vats? When they aren’t looking?” Merlin looked hopeful but Hunith shook her head.
“Oh, Merlin, there would be more questions. It’s too dangerous.” Hunith gave a little sigh, then nodded toward the door. “Let’s go see what the damages are and try and set things right.”
Merlin just gave a little sniff.
Title: Painting the Pig - part 1
Rating: PG
Pairing/s: none
Character/s: Merlin, Will, Hunith, Old Man Simmons
Summary:. Merlin was in trouble again with that stupid pig of old Man Simmons.
Warnings: none
Word Count:795
Camelot_drabble prompt 551: Paint
Author’s notes: none. I can't seem to stop writing longer pieces. Sigh. A companion piece to Sewing Skills. https://archiveofourown.org/works/46585450
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/
Hunith knew the second Tomos Simmons screeched out Merlin’s name that it was going to be one of those days.
Her boy had been remarkably quiet the last few weeks, especially after the dressing-the-pig incident. Not that he’d put the pig in that dress, but worse, that he’d planned to do it behind her back and with that scamp, Will, egging him on. It was a good thing she’d caught him before the whole village ended up chasing Simmons’s pig around.
She wasn’t sure her heart could take it.
While she loved Merlin more than she could say, still sometimes he drove her crazy. The magic, of course, was the main issue. He was too careless with it, no matter how many times she’d admonished him to keep it hidden. Too often, when he thought she wasn’t looking, he’d be making little dragons out of firelight or getting a stick doll to dance or even growing a flower in her garden in mid-winter.
But he was also lonely. The other children could sense something about him, often turning their backs on him or excluding him from games. Some of the older ones would rough him up, and once she’d come back from the well to find him crying and sporting a fairly large bruise on his cheek.
She raised hell with their parents but it just isolated Merlin more. So she couldn’t just tell Merlin to stay away from Will.
If only Will wasn’t such a troublemaker.
Thinking that perhaps she should find out what Simmons was yelling about, she started to put down her sewing when Merlin came bursting into the hut, covered in paint.
Except not really paint. They certainly couldn’t afford such a luxury. Instead it looked more like mud that had been mixed with dyes, yellows and iron-reds and a grassy-green.
But before she could tell Merlin to clean up outside, he said, “I didn’t do it. I swear.”
Not the words she wanted to hear. Ignoring the shouting outside, she said, “So what happened?”
“It wasn’t my fault. I was trying to help. Me and Will, after that thing with the pig and the dress and you being mad and all, we figured we’d steer clear of Simmons and his stupid pig. But the… well, Gethin and Cardoc, they’ve been… umm, following us around and… I didn’t want to upset you and… it’s their fault,” Merlin said, ending with a near shout, waving his hand toward the door.
“That you are covered in mud?” Hunith tried to rein in her anger. Much as Merlin got into trouble, he rarely lied and if those two bullies were at it again, she would be having more than a few words with their parents. Enough was enough.
“Me and Will saw Cardoc let out Isabelle and you know how Mr Simmons is. He’d blame us sure as anything. So we figured if we got her back in her pen, it would be alright. But,” Merlin stopped, wiping away some of the coloured mud and trying to clean it off by using his soaked tunic. It just made things worse. “She’s fast and when we got her headed in the right direction, Gethin jumped out, screeching like he’d stepped on a bee or something, and she went tearing into Molly’s laundry, tipping over the dye vats and I tried to stop her, really I did, Mum, but I slid in the mud and… things.”
“Oh, Merlin.” Hunith wanted to hug him. He looked absolutely miserable, but he was still filthy and it was likely she’d never get his clothes clean again, mostly going into the rag pile.
“I’m sorry, Mum,” Merlin said, wiping his face again, a few tears making tracks down his cheeks. “Am I in trouble?”
“No, absolutely not,” she said, resolute and thinking of what she needed to do next. “But we’ll have to find Tomos Simmons and explain the situation. Is Isabelle back in her pen?”
“But he’ll blame me and Will,” Merlin whined, then looked down at his feet. “No, she’s still wandering. But Molly’s in a tear.”
“I’m sure she is. I just hope some of it can be recovered. Dyes are expensive and I don’t have enough money to cover her costs and neither does she,” Hunith said, giving a little sigh.
“I could… you know, maybe put some of the dyes back in the vats? When they aren’t looking?” Merlin looked hopeful but Hunith shook her head.
“Oh, Merlin, there would be more questions. It’s too dangerous.” Hunith gave a little sigh, then nodded toward the door. “Let’s go see what the damages are and try and set things right.”
Merlin just gave a little sniff.