When All the Wealth of This World Lies Waste
Author: luxorien
Title: When All the Wealth of This World Lies Waste
Rating: G
Pairing/s: N/A
Character/s: Arthur, Merlin
Summary: Arthur ponders the legacy of a war wizard.
Warnings: N/A
Word Count: 187 (!)
Prompt: Remember
Author's Notes: N/A
The loyalty of a sorcerer. A tower set aside for Merlin's use. Magic to counter magic. How had it gone so wrong?
The expression in those impractically blue eyes when Arthur asked for the first weapon. How the light behind them collapsed when he talked of the good of the Five Kingdoms. He asked and Merlin gave. Once it started, it didn't end until Camelot's enemies were ashes underfoot.
Arthur steps into that room, with its windowed vistas and dusty tomes. He tries to find the difference, tries to figure out what has changed. But Merlin is just as he remembers. Busy. Cheerful. Unassuming. There is no blood on his hands, no deathly stench about him. Just the memory of fire, always waiting at the limit of his sight.
In the centuries to come, how will Merlin’s story be told? Will children hear of the peasant boy who became servant to the royal house? Will they sing songs of a trickster who defied his king in the name of justice? Or will they whisper tales of the great and terrible sorcerer whose greatest crime was his obedience?
Title: When All the Wealth of This World Lies Waste
Rating: G
Pairing/s: N/A
Character/s: Arthur, Merlin
Summary: Arthur ponders the legacy of a war wizard.
Warnings: N/A
Word Count: 187 (!)
Prompt: Remember
Author's Notes: N/A
The loyalty of a sorcerer. A tower set aside for Merlin's use. Magic to counter magic. How had it gone so wrong?
The expression in those impractically blue eyes when Arthur asked for the first weapon. How the light behind them collapsed when he talked of the good of the Five Kingdoms. He asked and Merlin gave. Once it started, it didn't end until Camelot's enemies were ashes underfoot.
Arthur steps into that room, with its windowed vistas and dusty tomes. He tries to find the difference, tries to figure out what has changed. But Merlin is just as he remembers. Busy. Cheerful. Unassuming. There is no blood on his hands, no deathly stench about him. Just the memory of fire, always waiting at the limit of his sight.
In the centuries to come, how will Merlin’s story be told? Will children hear of the peasant boy who became servant to the royal house? Will they sing songs of a trickster who defied his king in the name of justice? Or will they whisper tales of the great and terrible sorcerer whose greatest crime was his obedience?