Merlin Fanfiction 'Of Fools And Kings' Ch.1
Sooo... someone's been watching Merlin! Yep, at the start I was wondering, but then the wonderful slashability of it all swept me up and keeps me going ^^ Let's see how far this one will proceed....
Pairing: Merlin and Arthur
Rating: PG (ratings will be given seperately for each chapter)
Spoilers: up until episode 4 of season 1
Wordcount: ~2200
Discl.: The television series 'Merlin' was developed by Julian Jones, Jake Michie, Julian Murphy and Johnny Capps and runs on BBC One. I do not own any part whatsoever of it. This is purely done for my own and my reader's entertainment and I do mean no offence with it.
General notes: The whole story deal with the relationship of Merlin and Arthur - no surprise there. I will follow the storyline of season 1, maybe also start of season two for some time, but will deviate from it sooner or later. Some mix up of episode order might also come up.... <.< I hope it won't be all too confusing. A real summary will come whenever I'm not lazy anymore ^^'
So, for now this is chapter one, set directly before the start of episode 4, season 1.
I hope someone will enjoy, comments and critics are very welcome! :)
1
Involuntarily Happy
”Merlin!”
Arthur stalked the length of his chambers, passing to-and-fro before a cluttered table, kicking at a random assortment of things on an even more cluttered floor. Where was that useless idiot? One would think after a busy day of training and hunting, a prince would have the right to return to a warm, clean room and a light night meal. But no, not with the sorry excuse for a servant that had been pushed onto him by his father.
The wooden door to Arthur's chambers creaked open and a dark head popped in.
”Yes, sire?” it asked, a cheerful smile splitting it from one jug ear to the other. Arthur scowled. With the way his chambers looked, Merlin shouldn't by right have any time to look so happy.
”What on earth are you doing lazing about! Are you blind? My chambers look like a hog's barn!”
”Indeed they do, sire,” Merlin answered, looking around and wrinkling his nose. An expression which Arthur drove out of him in a second with a loose punch against the head.
”Well do something about it then! It's your job, useless as you are at it.”
The idiot winced from the blow - what a girl - and started picking up things here and there, not nearly as quick about it as he should be.
”Really, it must be so hard for a prince to put his things back where they belong,” Merlin murmured just loud enough to be heard and only as he was on the other side of the table.
How dare he, a servant speak like that to the son of the king! Arthur would have leapt straight over the table if that hadn't been stacked high enough with things for the action to release a small avalanche. It still was only a matter of seconds for Arthur to step around it, his face fierce. But Merlin retreated back to the opposite side just in time.
”Doesn't my lord feel like having a night meal? Let me just quickly fetch you something from the kitchens.”
And Arthur thought he even saw something like a grin on that obnoxious face. Oh, the fool wouldn't grin like that for long, Arthur would make sure of that. He was around the table again in a second, just as Merlin opened the door behind his back. The prince rushed forward, to cut off Merlin's way, but then his foot snatched on something of this blasted rubbish on the floor and he staggered. As he had caught himself and finally reached the door, it was already closing before him, but he grabbed the handle and pulled hard. Merlin the weakling would never be able to keep that door shut against Arthur. But to the prince's amazement, it didn't move. Somehow Merlin had managed to pull it closed, and now it must have somehow wedged itself against the frame. Arthur couldn't remember his door ever having done that, but sure enough, as much as he pulled, it didn't budge at all. Only a minute later did he finally get it open, but then the hallway behind it was already void of the cause of his irritation.
Merlin passed through the vaulted archway into the kitchens, still grinning widely as he imagined Arthur pulling on his door to no avail. Despite the fact that Merlin wasn't supposed to use magic for pranks like this, he really couldn't help doing it now and then and it felt more exhilarating each and every time. The book Gaius had given him was fantastic. Finally Merlin was able to understand his power and to really control it. He still used it silently and instinctively in some cases, but he was learning fast. Directing it with words gave it more strength and he could channel it much more precisely. He thought back with dread at the time he had tried to use his power to fell a tree back home in Ealdor and had only missed the miller's house by a few centimetres. Since young, strong beeches usually didn't just drop like that there had been much talk in the village and rumours of evil powers. At that point Merlin's mother had thought it better for him to leave. He remembered the excitement that prospect had woken in him. That he would finally get out of that boring little place and see the world! Despite a little sadness at leaving his home, he had very much looked forward to the journey and to its destination: the grand city and castle of Camelot.
On the day of his leave-taking from Ealor his mother had been teary-eyed and implored him to be careful. She gave him a letter and told him to look for the court physician before she kissed him and hugged him until he thought he would have to pry her fingers from his arms. As far as he had understood then, Gaius was an old friend. And indeed, even after realizing Merlin's power, the old man had not gone off telling the king but had taken Merlin in instead, was helping him, was even supporting the study of magic, as long as it was kept a secret. Unfortunately, the rest of Merlin's endeavours on his arrival in Camelot hadn't been as positive.
He had offended the son of the king on his very first day, had challenged him on purpose on the second, had saved him with the help of magic - and surprisingly without exposing himself - on the third and had been highly rewarded for it promptly afterwards. Merlin had also noticed that the definition of 'reward' here in Camelot seemed to be somewhat different than he would have imagined it himself. Being made the manservant of prince royal-ass-Arthur was definitely not what Merlin would have had in mind.
Soon afterwards Audley - the moving target Merlin had saved from Arthur on his first day - had come to personally thank Merlin for taking over that duty. Well, if that hadn't been a bad sign. And indeed, after performing that duty for barely a week he had already been sacked once, had gained Arthur's trust and lost it at the same day, had saved Arthur's life again and as a result of it been reinstated as servant.
And then there was the thing with the dragon of course. The dragon that had told Merlin about his destiny, about him and Arthur sharing the same path and being two sides of the same coin. At that point the young warlock rather wished he had not followed the voice in his head deep down into the bowls of the caves under the castle to meet that riddle-loving, overgrown lizard.
It had been just over three weeks and already so much had happened to Merlin, that he wasn't quite sure if all of this wasn't just a very long, very elaborate and very surreal dream. Unfortunately numerous painful bruises he had got over those few weeks, almost all of them from Arthur, proved beyond doubt that he was indeed very much awake. And if he was quite honest with himself, he had started to enjoy himself along the way. In fact much faster and much more than he would ever openly admit. Especially not to Arthur.
Merlin went through the pantry quickly, throwing together some bread and cold meats, his eyes lingering for a moment on a carrot but then deciding against it. Arthur had seemed pretty angry already, maybe it was better to let off pushing him any further tonight. Tomorrow would be a busy enough day for all of the servants, what with the arrival of some other king at the court. Merlin could do without having to muck out stables and polish armour in addition to all the other work he would have to do.
He snatched a plate from the nearest cupboard and put the food on it, then took a tankard and filled it up to the rim with beer. On second thought he took a few sips until it was empty enough to be carried without overspilling. Plate and jug in hand he made his way back to Arthur chambers.
Arthur sat at his table, booted feet on top of it.
That Merlin. Really, since he had come here, suddenly all kinds of strange things had been going on. Not that Arthur seriously though Merlin had anything to do with them, of course. The fool was hardly influential enough. He had stood his ground surprisingly well though, considering everything. He was clumsy and and idiot, but there weren't many who had the guts to deliberately challenge the son of the king. It was quite refreshing in its own way. Which didn't mean that Arthur wasn't still angry with the boy and would teach him his lesson as soon as he showed his face at the door again.
When that door finally did open though, it wasn't Merlin's face that showed up first. Arthur lowered the old, dry apple he had been ready to throw as a plate of food appeared and a moment later a jug just above it. Then, slowly, Merlin himself entered and pushed the door back shut with his foot.
Arthur followed the steps of his servant closely, like a cat would follow the busy movements of a mouse. As soon as Merlin had placed the jug of beer safely out of his hands and in front of Arthur, the prince's hand shot out and the old apple hit his servant squarely on the forehead. The annoying grin was replaced by a wince, then Merlin grimaced, closed his eyes for a moment and sighed.
“You are welcome, my lord,” he said with exaggerated friendliness, “Is there any other services you might require of me tonight?”
“Indeed there are,” Arthur answered with a self-satisfied smile, already feeling much better.
“I want my room impeccable for tomorrow. King Bayard from Mercia will be arriving at Camelot in the morning.”
Arthur's smile broadened as Merlin's face fell.
“But they will hardly be inspecting your chambers!”
“The whole castle needs to be spotless, that includes my chambers.”
Merlin groaned and let his head fall to the side.
“You can't be serious! This room looks like a battle field! How am I supposed to get it cleaned before tomorrow morning?”
“Well, you should have thought about that before you let it deteriorate to this state. You better get started right away or you'll be at it the whole night.”
Arthur sat up to grab plate and jug, then leaned back and made himself comfortable, motioning for Merlin to get a move on.
His servant gave another sigh, then started to randomly sort through the mess on floor and table. He did so for some minutes, Arthur all the while watching him, munching away at his bread contentedly. But then Merlin suddenly paused, an old bread crust in hand. He turned, walked straight over to Arthur's bed and put the crust in the very middle of one of the big, soft pillows. Arthur stopped chewing and gaped.
Merlin came back towards the table, looked around and found the apple that had been thrown at his forehead a few minutes before. He took it and with the same deliberate motions brought it to Arthur's bed as well, placing it on the same pillow.
“Merlin! What the hell are you doing!”
Merlin turned and smiled as broadly as if it was his birthday.
“Cleaning,” he said, as if he made perfect sense.
Arthur was on his feet in another moment stalking toward Merlin who was by now laughing at him - laughing at him!
“You useless, damned, idiot …,” Arthur shook his head looking for words and failing, “Idiot!”
He bristled and gave his irritating manservant another knock against the head that Merlin tried to avoid only weakly, while he still grinned. Grinned with his blue eyes positively sparkling.
“Get out!” Arthur shouted and Merlin did so happily.
After the door was closed, Arthur stood taking deep slow breaths, his hands on his hips, mouth set in a tight line. What the hell was wrong with that man? Why couldn't he just do as he was told, without provoking Arthur and questioning all orders, all the time?
The prince turned towards his bed, realising that the half-round of the old bread crust, the dry apple and the embroidered 'AP' on his pillow formed something like a face. It smiled up at him dumbly.
As much as he tried, Arthur couldn't help the chuckle trickling from his throat.
“Oh, you idiot!” he said quietly, then threw apple and crust against the far wall of his chambers. He would think of something especially ridiculous to get back at that fool, that much was sure. It could wait for tomorrow though. After a good night's sleep the revenge would feel even sweeter.
~~~