One Prison is much like another - part 35B
Author: 
archaeologist_d
Title: One Prison is much like another - part 35B
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/s: none
Character/s: Merlin, Arthur
Summary: Dragons are a handful, whether they be days old or centuries. Arthur wasn’t having any of it.
Warnings: none
Word Count: 735
Camelot Drabble Prompt #611: Hurdle
Author’s notes: Arthur is regent in all but name. AU and all.
----------------
“I’m not an idiot, you prat,” Merlin said, glaring at him. The arse was unbelievable.
Arthur gave a little laugh, mocking and sarcastic. Then he turned serious again. “And then you kept saving my life, even when I was yelling at you. Gods above, I have no idea how you could do that and still know that your life was forfeit if you were found out.”
“Because I thought you were a good man. Because I believed in you. Because I loved you as much as anyone could, more than my own life. You were my destiny, my other half in this world, but you’re the stupid one. You can’t even see what’s really going on in front of your own eyes.” It was a wonder that the rest of the castle wasn’t shaking from the thunder in Merlin’s voice.
But Arthur wasn’t having any of it. “And how am I supposed to know that when you lie to me?”
When a shiver of guilt ran through Merlin, because Arthur wasn’t wrong, the prat must have seen something in Merlin’s face. More quietly he said, “I thought not.” Then his voice hardened again, and he stood there, his arms folded across his chest, looking immovable as a mountain. “I have been told that dragonlords pass their power down from father to son. That you can control them.”
“As far as I know, yes,” Merlin muttered, knowing where this conversation was really going, that what Arthur had said before was just noise.
Lifting his chin, looking as royal as Merlin had ever seen him, Arthur said, “The dragons are too powerful to be allowed to fly free. They can devastate whole kingdoms, and by the same token, that gives you power, too. But if there were no dragons, your dragonlord powers would be useless and you would be free to go about your business.”
“What?” Merlin was sick, just thinking about it. He stumbled back, staring at Arthur, trying desperately to think of what to say to keep Arthur from going down that road, and yet not surprised at all.
“Bring the dragons here. I know they are young yet but they would be easy enough to kill. Mercifully. And once that is done, I will let you leave. Even give you land, if that is what you wish.” Arthur even seemed sincere, almost as if he were hoping that Merlin would not oppose him.
For a brief moment, Merlin wondered if that’s what Balinor and the other dragonlords had to go through, to decide if their lives were worth more than a dragon’s.
But not on his watch.
“I stopped you before. Down in the caves. You think I’m going to kill them or let you do it? Just because you are too blind to see the good in them?” Shaking a little with the fury of it, knowing that he’d made a terrible mistake, he snarled, “Not on your fucking life.”
Arthur seemed to accept it, even expect Merlin’s refusal. His face stony, he said, “Merlin, you must understand. I can’t let them live. If they grow to adulthood, they will be unstoppable.” Then softer, as if reluctant to bring it up but determined to win the argument, Arthur pointed out, “If it was my father, he would not even offer you this. He’d torture until you agreed and the ending would be the same, except you would be dead, too.”
Merlin stepped back, his boots caught in the moldy straw, his hands flat against the cold stone. He needed to keep from falling over as he stared at Arthur. He’d never really expected a threat like that from him. Yes, a clean death, one done quickly by a sword’s gleaming blade across Merlin’s throat. But this was beyond anything he’d expect of Arthur, even obliquely.
“Let me be very clear, Sire. I will not call them to their deaths. Do with me what you will but I will not, not for you, not for anyone.”
And with that, Merlin turned away, shutting Arthur out. His eyes watching the small patch of sky out of the cell window, he could see the moon rising and there was the little Dog Star gleaming next to it. A beautiful clear night and one he’d not forget.
Behind him, Arthur was babbling something, shouting really, but Merlin didn’t hear him.
And after a while, he was alone.
archaeologist_d
Title: One Prison is much like another - part 35B
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/s: none
Character/s: Merlin, Arthur
Summary: Dragons are a handful, whether they be days old or centuries. Arthur wasn’t having any of it.
Warnings: none
Word Count: 735
Camelot Drabble Prompt #611: Hurdle
Author’s notes: Arthur is regent in all but name. AU and all.
----------------
“I’m not an idiot, you prat,” Merlin said, glaring at him. The arse was unbelievable.
Arthur gave a little laugh, mocking and sarcastic. Then he turned serious again. “And then you kept saving my life, even when I was yelling at you. Gods above, I have no idea how you could do that and still know that your life was forfeit if you were found out.”
“Because I thought you were a good man. Because I believed in you. Because I loved you as much as anyone could, more than my own life. You were my destiny, my other half in this world, but you’re the stupid one. You can’t even see what’s really going on in front of your own eyes.” It was a wonder that the rest of the castle wasn’t shaking from the thunder in Merlin’s voice.
But Arthur wasn’t having any of it. “And how am I supposed to know that when you lie to me?”
When a shiver of guilt ran through Merlin, because Arthur wasn’t wrong, the prat must have seen something in Merlin’s face. More quietly he said, “I thought not.” Then his voice hardened again, and he stood there, his arms folded across his chest, looking immovable as a mountain. “I have been told that dragonlords pass their power down from father to son. That you can control them.”
“As far as I know, yes,” Merlin muttered, knowing where this conversation was really going, that what Arthur had said before was just noise.
Lifting his chin, looking as royal as Merlin had ever seen him, Arthur said, “The dragons are too powerful to be allowed to fly free. They can devastate whole kingdoms, and by the same token, that gives you power, too. But if there were no dragons, your dragonlord powers would be useless and you would be free to go about your business.”
“What?” Merlin was sick, just thinking about it. He stumbled back, staring at Arthur, trying desperately to think of what to say to keep Arthur from going down that road, and yet not surprised at all.
“Bring the dragons here. I know they are young yet but they would be easy enough to kill. Mercifully. And once that is done, I will let you leave. Even give you land, if that is what you wish.” Arthur even seemed sincere, almost as if he were hoping that Merlin would not oppose him.
For a brief moment, Merlin wondered if that’s what Balinor and the other dragonlords had to go through, to decide if their lives were worth more than a dragon’s.
But not on his watch.
“I stopped you before. Down in the caves. You think I’m going to kill them or let you do it? Just because you are too blind to see the good in them?” Shaking a little with the fury of it, knowing that he’d made a terrible mistake, he snarled, “Not on your fucking life.”
Arthur seemed to accept it, even expect Merlin’s refusal. His face stony, he said, “Merlin, you must understand. I can’t let them live. If they grow to adulthood, they will be unstoppable.” Then softer, as if reluctant to bring it up but determined to win the argument, Arthur pointed out, “If it was my father, he would not even offer you this. He’d torture until you agreed and the ending would be the same, except you would be dead, too.”
Merlin stepped back, his boots caught in the moldy straw, his hands flat against the cold stone. He needed to keep from falling over as he stared at Arthur. He’d never really expected a threat like that from him. Yes, a clean death, one done quickly by a sword’s gleaming blade across Merlin’s throat. But this was beyond anything he’d expect of Arthur, even obliquely.
“Let me be very clear, Sire. I will not call them to their deaths. Do with me what you will but I will not, not for you, not for anyone.”
And with that, Merlin turned away, shutting Arthur out. His eyes watching the small patch of sky out of the cell window, he could see the moon rising and there was the little Dog Star gleaming next to it. A beautiful clear night and one he’d not forget.
Behind him, Arthur was babbling something, shouting really, but Merlin didn’t hear him.
And after a while, he was alone.