One Prison is much like another - part 30B
Author: 
archaeologist_d
Title: One Prison is much like another - part 30B
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: 867
Camelot Drabble Prompt #604: coach
Author’s notes: Arthur is regent in all but name. AU and all. And yes I know there were no corgies in the old days but hey, if they can have tomatoes, they can have corgies.
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At least below ground, Merlin could relax. But above, in the castle, things were getting rough.
Merlin hadn’t been paying as much attention to Arthur or to anything else going on. Yes, Uther wasn’t seeing Kilgharrah’s eye any more hovering at his window, but he was still becoming more and more paranoid about everything.
Knowing that he’d have to show his face once in a while so that Arthur wouldn’t get suspicious, the first chance Merlin could get, he was clearing up after Arthur’s messy lunch and polishing some of his armour-how that man got mud embedded in the chainmail so badly that even Merlin’s magic had a hard time removing it was beyond him-when Uther began raging about something or other.
Normally, Merlin wouldn’t hear anything but muffed shouts when he was in Arthur’s chambers, but Uther was screaming so loudly about sorcerers and Arthur failing him and vowing to remove him as Crown Prince that it echoed clearly across the courtyard.
Merlin wasn’t sure what to do. He should be there for Arthur, silently supporting him, as his father shouted nonsense. But if he ran to Uther’s chambers, they’d probably not let him in and really it might make things worse for Arthur.
So instead, he just kept on cleaning and making sure everything was in its place when Arthur came stomping back in.
Arthur was pale, looking exhausted as he scowled at Merlin. “Why are you here?” But before Merlin could say anything, Arthur shook his head and yelled, “Get out.”
Normally, that was Merlin’s cue to duck and maybe run, but Arthur wasn’t throwing anything, just standing by the fireplace, staring down into the flames. Looking thoroughly miserable.
Merlin’s heart twisted a little. He could never really stand to see Arthur unhappy, not that he’d let Arthur know. But a little help wouldn’t be amiss.
“So I hear the pigs got out again. I swear that the pig boy is doing it on purpose. Apparently, Master Thropwomble is a bit of a tightwad and hasn’t paid Owen in months,” Merlin said. Arthur just grunted as if he wasn’t paying any attention. “It was a treat to see old Thropy covered in pig swill. I thought he was going to have a fit with everyone laughing at him. I wish the court painter had been there, although if you like I can draw you a picture.”
“Stick figures, I assume. Your talent for drawing is kingdom renowned for being abysmal.” Arthur glanced at him, his face a little lighter, less thunderous but more resigned. “I’ll have a word with Thropwomble. His actions reflect poorly on Camelot.”
“Can I be there when you do? I love it when he gets all purple.” Merlin grinned, thinking to pull a smile out of Arthur.
When Arthur grunted again, turning back to look at the fire, Merlin tried again. “Oh, and Lady Agnes arrived for the feast. Did you know that she’d brought her dogs with her, all eighteen of them? You could smell her coach a mile away. Her manservant ended up driving it into the lake just to scrub it out.” This time, it wasn’t working. Arthur just stood there, pensive and silent. But Merlin wasn’t done. “You should have seen her screeching at him but the fun part was when all the dogs, corgis mostly but some beagles too and one huge wolfhound, bounding into the lake. Did you know that corgi butts help them float? And they were crawling onto the wolfhound and using him as a jumping board back into the water. It was chaos but even sour old Geoffrey was laughing. I wish you’d have seen it.”
Shaking his head, looking as if he couldn’t believe Merlin was telling him all this foolishness, finally Arthur said, “I have more important things to do than watch corgi butts floating, Merlin.”
“Besides making my life hell, you mean?” Merlin replied, raising his eyebrows as if in challenge.
“Now that I can make time for.” Arthur reached out and pulled Merlin close and began to rub his knuckles through Merlin’s hair.
At least it had got Arthur to stop thinking about his bloody horror of a father. Instead of pulling away, Merlin just let him, although not without protest. “Ow, ow, ow, you great lummox.”
Arthur laughed, then let him go. The grin fading, Arthur said, “Thank you, Merlin. For you being you. An idiot, a fool, someone I can always rely on to make up the most ridiculous stories.”
“Does that mean I get a raise? Or better yet, a day off.” Merlin knew he wouldn’t, but it was a joke between them after all.
“The most ridiculous of all your stories,” Arthur said.
“One day, you’ll give me one and I’ll not know what to do.” Merlin gave him another grin.
“That day will never come. Now, enough with the wild tales. I’ve work and so do you.” Arthur gestured toward the door.
“Yes, watching corgi butts in the lake,” Merlin snickered, then hurried out the door before Arthur gave him so many chores that he’d never be done.
At least, he got Arthur to smile. Merlin counted that a win.
archaeologist_d
Title: One Prison is much like another - part 30B
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: 867
Camelot Drabble Prompt #604: coach
Author’s notes: Arthur is regent in all but name. AU and all. And yes I know there were no corgies in the old days but hey, if they can have tomatoes, they can have corgies.
------------
At least below ground, Merlin could relax. But above, in the castle, things were getting rough.
Merlin hadn’t been paying as much attention to Arthur or to anything else going on. Yes, Uther wasn’t seeing Kilgharrah’s eye any more hovering at his window, but he was still becoming more and more paranoid about everything.
Knowing that he’d have to show his face once in a while so that Arthur wouldn’t get suspicious, the first chance Merlin could get, he was clearing up after Arthur’s messy lunch and polishing some of his armour-how that man got mud embedded in the chainmail so badly that even Merlin’s magic had a hard time removing it was beyond him-when Uther began raging about something or other.
Normally, Merlin wouldn’t hear anything but muffed shouts when he was in Arthur’s chambers, but Uther was screaming so loudly about sorcerers and Arthur failing him and vowing to remove him as Crown Prince that it echoed clearly across the courtyard.
Merlin wasn’t sure what to do. He should be there for Arthur, silently supporting him, as his father shouted nonsense. But if he ran to Uther’s chambers, they’d probably not let him in and really it might make things worse for Arthur.
So instead, he just kept on cleaning and making sure everything was in its place when Arthur came stomping back in.
Arthur was pale, looking exhausted as he scowled at Merlin. “Why are you here?” But before Merlin could say anything, Arthur shook his head and yelled, “Get out.”
Normally, that was Merlin’s cue to duck and maybe run, but Arthur wasn’t throwing anything, just standing by the fireplace, staring down into the flames. Looking thoroughly miserable.
Merlin’s heart twisted a little. He could never really stand to see Arthur unhappy, not that he’d let Arthur know. But a little help wouldn’t be amiss.
“So I hear the pigs got out again. I swear that the pig boy is doing it on purpose. Apparently, Master Thropwomble is a bit of a tightwad and hasn’t paid Owen in months,” Merlin said. Arthur just grunted as if he wasn’t paying any attention. “It was a treat to see old Thropy covered in pig swill. I thought he was going to have a fit with everyone laughing at him. I wish the court painter had been there, although if you like I can draw you a picture.”
“Stick figures, I assume. Your talent for drawing is kingdom renowned for being abysmal.” Arthur glanced at him, his face a little lighter, less thunderous but more resigned. “I’ll have a word with Thropwomble. His actions reflect poorly on Camelot.”
“Can I be there when you do? I love it when he gets all purple.” Merlin grinned, thinking to pull a smile out of Arthur.
When Arthur grunted again, turning back to look at the fire, Merlin tried again. “Oh, and Lady Agnes arrived for the feast. Did you know that she’d brought her dogs with her, all eighteen of them? You could smell her coach a mile away. Her manservant ended up driving it into the lake just to scrub it out.” This time, it wasn’t working. Arthur just stood there, pensive and silent. But Merlin wasn’t done. “You should have seen her screeching at him but the fun part was when all the dogs, corgis mostly but some beagles too and one huge wolfhound, bounding into the lake. Did you know that corgi butts help them float? And they were crawling onto the wolfhound and using him as a jumping board back into the water. It was chaos but even sour old Geoffrey was laughing. I wish you’d have seen it.”
Shaking his head, looking as if he couldn’t believe Merlin was telling him all this foolishness, finally Arthur said, “I have more important things to do than watch corgi butts floating, Merlin.”
“Besides making my life hell, you mean?” Merlin replied, raising his eyebrows as if in challenge.
“Now that I can make time for.” Arthur reached out and pulled Merlin close and began to rub his knuckles through Merlin’s hair.
At least it had got Arthur to stop thinking about his bloody horror of a father. Instead of pulling away, Merlin just let him, although not without protest. “Ow, ow, ow, you great lummox.”
Arthur laughed, then let him go. The grin fading, Arthur said, “Thank you, Merlin. For you being you. An idiot, a fool, someone I can always rely on to make up the most ridiculous stories.”
“Does that mean I get a raise? Or better yet, a day off.” Merlin knew he wouldn’t, but it was a joke between them after all.
“The most ridiculous of all your stories,” Arthur said.
“One day, you’ll give me one and I’ll not know what to do.” Merlin gave him another grin.
“That day will never come. Now, enough with the wild tales. I’ve work and so do you.” Arthur gestured toward the door.
“Yes, watching corgi butts in the lake,” Merlin snickered, then hurried out the door before Arthur gave him so many chores that he’d never be done.
At least, he got Arthur to smile. Merlin counted that a win.