Title: One Prison is much like another - part 27 (note more added to it)
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Author: archaeologist_d
Title: One Prison is much like another - part 27
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/s: none
Character/s: Merlin, Kilgharrah, Arthur
Summary: Dragons are a handful, whether they be days old or centuries.
Warnings: none
Word Count: 1100
Camelot Drabble Prompt #601: impotent
Author’s notes: Arthur is regent in all but name. AU and all. - Note since I was traveling, I couldn't figure out how to post the whole thing so I've updated it once I got home.
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.
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For the next few days, it worked well enough. Kilgharrah was being a pillock, but he did take care of the dragonets while Merlin ran errands and prepared for Arthur’s return and, more importantly, slept enough that he wasn’t stumbling around being useless.
The little ones continued to grow. Squabbling for attention, Lamporos talkative and a little ahead of the others, began to lead forays into the cave, looking for grubs, diving for eels, catching bats and birds with abandon. Often, he’d share his catch with Merlin, almost as if showing off his skills and vying for attention, only to have Bremen, his orange tail whipping around, grabbing at the leavings and starting a squabble among them all.
It made Merlin laugh.
Whenever he could, Merlin praised each of them whenever they showed off a new skill and it seemed to work well. They were walking easily, flying better, becoming more curious with every passing day.
He knew that he needed to fill them in on the history of dragons and men, to get them used to the idea that men weren’t all bad- even though some of the knights who had followed Uther’s commands deserved to pay for their crimes. But he didn’t want to scare the little ones so he’d tell them about the kings of old who had befriended the dragons and partnered with them to keep the kingdom safe. Besides, it was fun to sit with the dragonets, their golden eyes rapt on his as they clustered around him. It made him feel like he had finally come into his own, that he was wanted and needed and accomplishing something wonderful for a change.
But then Kilgharrah would interject some sarcastic comment, Merlin would start to argue, and before long, there was chaos. The babies didn’t know what to make of it all, Chara hiding under Merlin’s arm and Lailaps scolding everyone until Merlin could hardly think. In the end, Merlin gave up, instead telling them about his adventures growing up in Ealdor. That seemed to calm everyone down.
Knowing that he’d have to educate them at some point about the realities of Uther’s reign and how dangerous it could be, still he felt he could wait a little while. They were still so young and until they could leave the cave, it didn’t really matter anyway.
With the exception of Kilgharrah being an arse about it all, Merlin’s life was mostly filled with cleaning and feeding and watching them grow, his affection for them expanding with each passing day.
----
And then Arthur came back.
Merlin had just finished up feeding the gaggle of wiggling babies, and trudged up the stairs, half-exhausted from it all. Stumbling into Gaius’s chambers, he tripped over an irate Arthur. He didn’t fall on his face but it was a near thing.
“Where have you been? And don’t tell me you were out picking herbs because that excuse is wearing a little thin.” Arthur tapped his boot several times, his arms crossed over his chest as he glared at Merlin. “Have you been at the tavern again?”
When Merlin just stood there gaping at him, Arthur narrowed his eyes. “I am beginning to think you have a serious problem. I’ve half a mind to forbid you entrance to any tavern within a hundred mile radius.”
“Half a mind is about right. You certainly have a lot of space inside that fat head of yours if you think I have nothing better to do than get rat-arsed. Although considering that I’m working for a prat, rat-arsed should be the least of it.”
“Working?” Arthur said, looking like he’d swallowed a lemon. “You don’t know the meaning of the word. Have you even gone to my rooms once to clean while I was away? There were cobwebs and rat droppings everywhere.”
Truth be told, Merlin had completely forgotten about Arthur’s chambers. After all, a few cobwebs never hurt anyone. “I’ve been busy collecting herbs, you prat.” Merlin even tried to look a bit annoyed about it when Arthur rolled his eyes, clearly not buying it. But he wasn’t about to let Arthur get the upper hand. “Just ask Gaius.”
“He said you were in the tavern,” Arthur snapped. “So which is it?”
Merlin needed to have a word with Gaius about taverns and excuses, several very strong words. “Gaius has had a lot on his mind. He probably just forgot.”
“Well, I would like to forget this conversation but my chambers are still a mess. So hop to it.” Arthur scowled, then reached out, grabbing onto Merlin’s jacket and marching him down the stairs and up the stairs and into Arthur’s rooms, Merlin squawking all the while.
When they entered, Arthur’s room looked like a whirlwind had landed. Yes, the cobwebs were a bit much but it’s not like it was life or death, but the rest was chaos.
The floor was littered with dulled swords and muddy chainmail, bags of something or other that might be gold or maybe rocks that Arthur had collected while he was away. Worse were the mass of rumpled clothes and offal-covered boots which look like they’d been thrown around in a fit of pique.
Merlin was horrified.
“What did you do? Have a wrestling match with the pigs? Or is this your way of telling me off for not coming with you and having me cater to your every ridiculous whim?” Merlin was starting to wind up. The mess would take hours to clean and more if Arthur stayed there, ordering him about. “You do know I was injured, right?”
“But you aren’t now so get on with it. I have to report my findings to the council, and I can’t go looking like some kind of peasant or worse having my servant skivvying off when he should be doing his damn job.” Arthur picked up his quilted jacket, the only one not covered in mud and things Merlin would rather not think about, and shoved it on. “And when I get back, I want a bath and those little honey cakes Cook makes and this place shining. No rat droppings. And we will talk about your clear problem with drink.”
Merlin sputtered, just about ready to tell Arthur to go soak his head, when Arthur gave him a final annoyed look and stomped out of the room.
Staring at the door a while, Merlin picked up and threw a boot at it. “I don’t have a drinking problem, you prat. But would it hurt to pick up after yourself and let your poor beleaguered servant have a day off?”
There was no reply.
Author: archaeologist_d
Title: One Prison is much like another - part 27
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/s: none
Character/s: Merlin, Kilgharrah, Arthur
Summary: Dragons are a handful, whether they be days old or centuries.
Warnings: none
Word Count: 1100
Camelot Drabble Prompt #601: impotent
Author’s notes: Arthur is regent in all but name. AU and all. - Note since I was traveling, I couldn't figure out how to post the whole thing so I've updated it once I got home.
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.
----------------
For the next few days, it worked well enough. Kilgharrah was being a pillock, but he did take care of the dragonets while Merlin ran errands and prepared for Arthur’s return and, more importantly, slept enough that he wasn’t stumbling around being useless.
The little ones continued to grow. Squabbling for attention, Lamporos talkative and a little ahead of the others, began to lead forays into the cave, looking for grubs, diving for eels, catching bats and birds with abandon. Often, he’d share his catch with Merlin, almost as if showing off his skills and vying for attention, only to have Bremen, his orange tail whipping around, grabbing at the leavings and starting a squabble among them all.
It made Merlin laugh.
Whenever he could, Merlin praised each of them whenever they showed off a new skill and it seemed to work well. They were walking easily, flying better, becoming more curious with every passing day.
He knew that he needed to fill them in on the history of dragons and men, to get them used to the idea that men weren’t all bad- even though some of the knights who had followed Uther’s commands deserved to pay for their crimes. But he didn’t want to scare the little ones so he’d tell them about the kings of old who had befriended the dragons and partnered with them to keep the kingdom safe. Besides, it was fun to sit with the dragonets, their golden eyes rapt on his as they clustered around him. It made him feel like he had finally come into his own, that he was wanted and needed and accomplishing something wonderful for a change.
But then Kilgharrah would interject some sarcastic comment, Merlin would start to argue, and before long, there was chaos. The babies didn’t know what to make of it all, Chara hiding under Merlin’s arm and Lailaps scolding everyone until Merlin could hardly think. In the end, Merlin gave up, instead telling them about his adventures growing up in Ealdor. That seemed to calm everyone down.
Knowing that he’d have to educate them at some point about the realities of Uther’s reign and how dangerous it could be, still he felt he could wait a little while. They were still so young and until they could leave the cave, it didn’t really matter anyway.
With the exception of Kilgharrah being an arse about it all, Merlin’s life was mostly filled with cleaning and feeding and watching them grow, his affection for them expanding with each passing day.
----
And then Arthur came back.
Merlin had just finished up feeding the gaggle of wiggling babies, and trudged up the stairs, half-exhausted from it all. Stumbling into Gaius’s chambers, he tripped over an irate Arthur. He didn’t fall on his face but it was a near thing.
“Where have you been? And don’t tell me you were out picking herbs because that excuse is wearing a little thin.” Arthur tapped his boot several times, his arms crossed over his chest as he glared at Merlin. “Have you been at the tavern again?”
When Merlin just stood there gaping at him, Arthur narrowed his eyes. “I am beginning to think you have a serious problem. I’ve half a mind to forbid you entrance to any tavern within a hundred mile radius.”
“Half a mind is about right. You certainly have a lot of space inside that fat head of yours if you think I have nothing better to do than get rat-arsed. Although considering that I’m working for a prat, rat-arsed should be the least of it.”
“Working?” Arthur said, looking like he’d swallowed a lemon. “You don’t know the meaning of the word. Have you even gone to my rooms once to clean while I was away? There were cobwebs and rat droppings everywhere.”
Truth be told, Merlin had completely forgotten about Arthur’s chambers. After all, a few cobwebs never hurt anyone. “I’ve been busy collecting herbs, you prat.” Merlin even tried to look a bit annoyed about it when Arthur rolled his eyes, clearly not buying it. But he wasn’t about to let Arthur get the upper hand. “Just ask Gaius.”
“He said you were in the tavern,” Arthur snapped. “So which is it?”
Merlin needed to have a word with Gaius about taverns and excuses, several very strong words. “Gaius has had a lot on his mind. He probably just forgot.”
“Well, I would like to forget this conversation but my chambers are still a mess. So hop to it.” Arthur scowled, then reached out, grabbing onto Merlin’s jacket and marching him down the stairs and up the stairs and into Arthur’s rooms, Merlin squawking all the while.
When they entered, Arthur’s room looked like a whirlwind had landed. Yes, the cobwebs were a bit much but it’s not like it was life or death, but the rest was chaos.
The floor was littered with dulled swords and muddy chainmail, bags of something or other that might be gold or maybe rocks that Arthur had collected while he was away. Worse were the mass of rumpled clothes and offal-covered boots which look like they’d been thrown around in a fit of pique.
Merlin was horrified.
“What did you do? Have a wrestling match with the pigs? Or is this your way of telling me off for not coming with you and having me cater to your every ridiculous whim?” Merlin was starting to wind up. The mess would take hours to clean and more if Arthur stayed there, ordering him about. “You do know I was injured, right?”
“But you aren’t now so get on with it. I have to report my findings to the council, and I can’t go looking like some kind of peasant or worse having my servant skivvying off when he should be doing his damn job.” Arthur picked up his quilted jacket, the only one not covered in mud and things Merlin would rather not think about, and shoved it on. “And when I get back, I want a bath and those little honey cakes Cook makes and this place shining. No rat droppings. And we will talk about your clear problem with drink.”
Merlin sputtered, just about ready to tell Arthur to go soak his head, when Arthur gave him a final annoyed look and stomped out of the room.
Staring at the door a while, Merlin picked up and threw a boot at it. “I don’t have a drinking problem, you prat. But would it hurt to pick up after yourself and let your poor beleaguered servant have a day off?”
There was no reply.