[fic] Madder Side of Filial Piety [Amber][for babel]
written for a (filled multi-fandom) request made by: stella_belli
Fandom: Books of Amber, by Roger Zelazny
Pairing/characters: Merlin, Luke (Rinaldo)
Warnings/notes: ... *Is* Ghostwheel a setting? No, I suppose not. And yet ...
Disclaimer: The wondrous world of Amber was created by Roger Zelazny.
**********
"Luke, *I* am your father," Darth Vader said to Luke, whose name was actually Rinaldo. That was okay though, because Luke's father's name was actually Brand, and if that makes no sense: welcome to my life. I'm your host, Merlin, son of Corwin, soon to be King and married.
And, just between me and you, it's *bad* to be King. The only thing that's worse is being in line to be King (or Queen, of course) and since I'd been through that, I suppose my present situation should have made me a lot happier than it actually did. Oh well, c'est la vie, n'est-ce pas?
To fill you in on what's been happening to me recently, without boring you with too many details: I survived being in line for the throne of Chaos - barely, and with a little bit of help from my friends, as they say so eloquently - and discovered that, somehow, I'd ended up at the top, or in the front, whichever term you prefer. I'd call it 'hitting rock-bottom' myself.
I'd discovered the woman I had loved, mourned and buried wasn't quite the helpless, typical damsel-in-distress I'd thought her to be; we got into a few good fights that cleaned the air and left us both smelling like roses, dandelions and more of that floral goodness, and decided to get married.
Kings need queens, after all, and there really wasn't anyone I'd rather have next to me than Julia, if only because I could be reasonably sure that, as long as she was by my side, she wouldn't have the reach to stab me in the back, unlike most of the other eligible ladies.
I also met my father again, who'd disappeared years ago. Plus, of course, I discovered who Luke's father was, and Darth Vader didn't have all that much on him, when it came to posing a threat to the Galaxy. No worries though, because, like Darth Vader, Brand was very, very dead.
One of the other things I'd found out about Luke was that he'd tried to have me killed a few times. I paid him back by trying to kill *him* a few times - or at least not trying too hard to keep him alive and whole, or, all right, by doing a poor job of protecting him against his other friends, his mother, my family and himself. At any rate, the end-result was that we were still friends. I called him 'Luke', he called me 'Merle', just like it'd been in those good old days when the only day I'd seriously needed to worry about dodging assassination-attempts was April first.
In the part of Shadow where we met, it was a tradition that, before someone got married, he or she would spend one last time with his or her friends, to party like the end of the world, or possibly the year 1999, was coming. Somehow, Luke had decided that my 'wild night out' was to consist of the two of us watching Star Wars while snacking on pretzels, beer and popcorn.
Alternately, maybe he was just feeling nostalgic, and had preyed upon my good nature to make me help him relive the past. The royal wedding wasn't scheduled for another two months, after all, which translated to a couple of years in this particular place.
"You know, I really hate that ending," Luke commented. "I mean, what's in it for Luke?"
We've watched Star Wars together quite often, and Luke always says the same at the ending. I've often wondered if it's a case of over-identification (they *do* share their first name, after all) but then again, I've punched enough people for asking me if I ever knew a guy named Arthur, so maybe I shouldn't jump to any conclusions.
"The satisfaction of knowing he's done a good job?" I do, in fact, know this is a lame answer. But I was drunk the first time Luke asked, and the second time, I couldn't think of any deep, meaningful answer, and before I knew it, it had become a Ritual.
"Bull shit." Luke snorted. "Luke just gets screwed, that's what. He doesn't even get to keep the Princess."
Personally, I've never seen the attraction of the buns. De gustibus etc. etc., I know. Still, I think Luke's happier with Leia as his sister, from whom he can get sisterly advise and the occasional pat on the back, than he'd have been with her as his wife. Luke (the one who's actually called Rinaldo) disagrees.
Great friendships are built on disagreements like that.
"Dad?" My beercan had suddenly received a silver halo. The effect was a bit like what they show you in Star Trek, to indicate a person's about to be beamed up. I was drunk, so I took another swig of beer, stared at the end-credits some more, and ate another pretzel before I answered.
"Ghost? What's up?" I hoped against hope that it wasn't news. My definition of good news is that there's no such thing; news always means trouble, even it might not seem so at first.
"There's something I think you need to see. Right now, if you don't mind." I have, at the insistence of various people who had no right to speak, taught Ghost a bit about proper manners and etiquette. He gets the basics, I think; it's the smaller nuances that escape him, like what tone of voice to use when making a humble request. Or maybe he just understands more about manners than he lets on to.
"It can't wait?" Silly question. Luke gave me a look that reminded me of puppies. Drowned puppies, with the one responsible swearing high and low that he'd had nothing at all to do with it.
"You and Luke both, please." Ghost had certainly perfected the art of ignoring me. I wondered from which of my family-members he'd picked up that talent.
"Beam me up, Scotty!" Luke had risen. He was able to stand up straight, which shouldn't have surprised me, considering that I was beginning to feel regrettably sober myself, too. Either Ghost was doing something he wasn't supposed to, or I'd consumed less alcohol than I'd intended to.
Ghost produced a series of beeps that might have been meant to be an R2D2-imitation. "Roger that, Red Leader." Well, at least he was sticking to the right movie.
"Fine, let's get on with it." Accepting the inevitable isn't something most members of either of my families are very good at, but practice makes perfect, and I pride myself on being multi-talented.
Ghost made a whirring sound, worked his magic, and relocated the three (or two?) of us to ... somewhere. I couldn't see much more than the rock Luke and I were standing on, and the mist that limited our sight to a few feet.
"I don't think we're in Kansas anymore." Luke was either more drunk than I'd assumed he was, or Up To Something and playing dumb. Normally, and with nearly anyone else, I'd bet on the second, but his consistent quoting of the wrong movies seemed too out-of-character. Of course, he might just be doing that because he knew the way I thought.
"You weren't in Kansas earlier either," Ghost said. I wasn't sure if it was meant to be funny, or helpful.
"Spoilsport," Luke replied.
"Hypocritical moron." Ghost has gotten a good grasp of insults over time, but I think he's still working on when it's appropriate to use a particular term. I don't think Martin was very offended when Ghost called him a 'punk' for quoting that saying about artificial intelligence and human intelligence.
"Merle, any reason why we should stick around here? Let's get out of here, before this rain - oh shit." Luke held up his arm that had previously been covered by the sleeves of his shirt. "Acid rain? You said you'd talked to him about not becoming some psycho super-computer!"
"It only dissolves clothes, or, to be precise, non-biological matter." Ghost murmured sotto voce to me. He didn't seem very concerned about himself, so I assumed he'd either put up some sort of umbrella, or else was an exception to the rule.
"Ask your virtual pet why he's brought us here, will you? I'd really love to know." Luke stripped off his shirt, apparently feeling better getting rid of it himself than to have it fall apart bit by bit.
"People usually get naked before they have sex," Ghost declared. It was, I thought, a masterful non sequitur, worthy of, well, a member of my family. Then I thought some more, and an Idea began to loom in my mind. The Pattern had, after all, done something like this, too, hadn't it? Trapped me in some enclosed space with someone good-looking for whom I had a certain amount of affection ...
"It's not a matter of cause and effect," Luke informed Ghost in his best salesman-voice. "On top of that, sex requires a certain type of environment, which - "
"Why does everyone want to meddle in my love-life?" I demanded.
Luke looked like he was tempted to point out to me that, really, *he* hadn't done any meddling, had he? but had wisened up at the last second. Ghost had no expression I could feel satisfied about. I swear, if I ever build a super-computer again, I'll make sure I can read its moods.
"Because you have such bad judgment?" Ghost suggested. "No offense, Dad, but I don't approve of your fiancee at all, and you told me you'd settled all of your problems with Luke. I still don't really like him, but you seem to be fond of him, and at least he understands what I'm saying more than half the time." This was quite the relevation. I wondered just how much time Ghost had spent talking to Luke while I wasn't looking. I also wondered if putting Ghost up to this was Luke's idea of an April Fools joke. If it was, it'd be very hard to top.
"How about we continue this conversation somewhere a little more ... comfortable?" Luke proposed, with both hands raised, as if he were afraid either me or Ghost might start pelting him with tomatos, or something along those lines.
A hum, a flash, and we were ... somewhere with lots of pillows. Luke hadn't had the chance to pick up his shirt, and mine was reduced to shreds by that strange rain. I was grateful for the fact that both me and Luke prefered to wear pure-cotton jeans.
"Should I fetch something to drink?" Ghost asked, probably sarcastically. I mean, I hoped he wasn't actually acting like some sort of servant to Luke. I sort of trusted Luke, for the moment, but not *that* much.
"No, thanks." Luke made himself comfortable. "I don't mean to be rude, only ... "
"Oh. Yes, of course." Ghost shrinked to the size of a coin, then vanished completely. "I promise I won't watch, or listen in, or ... anything." And then, softly, to me: "Good luck, Dad." Cute. I was going to need that, I was sure.
"Is he really going to keep that promise?" Luke inquired. He sounded more curious than overly concerned about Ghost watching us while sitting on pillows, talking. Which, I was sure, would be all we were going to do.
"Probably," I said. Ghost had been exposed to various of my relatives now, but not to the point where he'd become as untrustworthy and slippery as them. "For all the good it'll do."
"You created him, so you've no right to complain." Luke smirked at me. "Now then, what's all this about you not wanting to marry Julia? I thought it was True Love between the two of you."
So had I. Before. Now, it had gotten a bit complicated, and nobody was being much of a help, least of all Julia herself, who simply didn't act like the person I remembered her to be. Memory is, of course, a tricky thing, so it's very well possible that I made her more perfect, more of an ideal, in my mind after her presumed death.
"I'm not sure anymore," I confessed.
Luke sighed. "Merle ... "
"What?" I didn't want Luke to go and come up with a solution that'd fix all of my problems. Ghost was bad enough; at least *he* had the decency to only solve my non-existent problems, and leave my existing ones for me to struggle with.
"I own this nice house, in a nice, far-away part of Shadow. It's got a beach with palm-trees next to it, good weather throughout the year, and a huge swimming-pool. Why don't you take a break for a while, go on a little vacation?" Luke sounded far too convincing, for my taste.
Obviously, I could find a house exactly like he'd described it myself, with little problems. On the other hand, why wouldn't I accept Luke's offer? I'd sat through dozens of Star Wars-marathons with him; what were a few weeks of relaxing on Bounty-island compared to that?
"Don't see why not." I shrugged.
"Shouldn't you get married before going on a honeymoon?" Ghost asked.
~end~
Fandom: Books of Amber, by Roger Zelazny
Pairing/characters: Merlin, Luke (Rinaldo)
Warnings/notes: ... *Is* Ghostwheel a setting? No, I suppose not. And yet ...
Disclaimer: The wondrous world of Amber was created by Roger Zelazny.
**********
"Luke, *I* am your father," Darth Vader said to Luke, whose name was actually Rinaldo. That was okay though, because Luke's father's name was actually Brand, and if that makes no sense: welcome to my life. I'm your host, Merlin, son of Corwin, soon to be King and married.
And, just between me and you, it's *bad* to be King. The only thing that's worse is being in line to be King (or Queen, of course) and since I'd been through that, I suppose my present situation should have made me a lot happier than it actually did. Oh well, c'est la vie, n'est-ce pas?
To fill you in on what's been happening to me recently, without boring you with too many details: I survived being in line for the throne of Chaos - barely, and with a little bit of help from my friends, as they say so eloquently - and discovered that, somehow, I'd ended up at the top, or in the front, whichever term you prefer. I'd call it 'hitting rock-bottom' myself.
I'd discovered the woman I had loved, mourned and buried wasn't quite the helpless, typical damsel-in-distress I'd thought her to be; we got into a few good fights that cleaned the air and left us both smelling like roses, dandelions and more of that floral goodness, and decided to get married.
Kings need queens, after all, and there really wasn't anyone I'd rather have next to me than Julia, if only because I could be reasonably sure that, as long as she was by my side, she wouldn't have the reach to stab me in the back, unlike most of the other eligible ladies.
I also met my father again, who'd disappeared years ago. Plus, of course, I discovered who Luke's father was, and Darth Vader didn't have all that much on him, when it came to posing a threat to the Galaxy. No worries though, because, like Darth Vader, Brand was very, very dead.
One of the other things I'd found out about Luke was that he'd tried to have me killed a few times. I paid him back by trying to kill *him* a few times - or at least not trying too hard to keep him alive and whole, or, all right, by doing a poor job of protecting him against his other friends, his mother, my family and himself. At any rate, the end-result was that we were still friends. I called him 'Luke', he called me 'Merle', just like it'd been in those good old days when the only day I'd seriously needed to worry about dodging assassination-attempts was April first.
In the part of Shadow where we met, it was a tradition that, before someone got married, he or she would spend one last time with his or her friends, to party like the end of the world, or possibly the year 1999, was coming. Somehow, Luke had decided that my 'wild night out' was to consist of the two of us watching Star Wars while snacking on pretzels, beer and popcorn.
Alternately, maybe he was just feeling nostalgic, and had preyed upon my good nature to make me help him relive the past. The royal wedding wasn't scheduled for another two months, after all, which translated to a couple of years in this particular place.
"You know, I really hate that ending," Luke commented. "I mean, what's in it for Luke?"
We've watched Star Wars together quite often, and Luke always says the same at the ending. I've often wondered if it's a case of over-identification (they *do* share their first name, after all) but then again, I've punched enough people for asking me if I ever knew a guy named Arthur, so maybe I shouldn't jump to any conclusions.
"The satisfaction of knowing he's done a good job?" I do, in fact, know this is a lame answer. But I was drunk the first time Luke asked, and the second time, I couldn't think of any deep, meaningful answer, and before I knew it, it had become a Ritual.
"Bull shit." Luke snorted. "Luke just gets screwed, that's what. He doesn't even get to keep the Princess."
Personally, I've never seen the attraction of the buns. De gustibus etc. etc., I know. Still, I think Luke's happier with Leia as his sister, from whom he can get sisterly advise and the occasional pat on the back, than he'd have been with her as his wife. Luke (the one who's actually called Rinaldo) disagrees.
Great friendships are built on disagreements like that.
"Dad?" My beercan had suddenly received a silver halo. The effect was a bit like what they show you in Star Trek, to indicate a person's about to be beamed up. I was drunk, so I took another swig of beer, stared at the end-credits some more, and ate another pretzel before I answered.
"Ghost? What's up?" I hoped against hope that it wasn't news. My definition of good news is that there's no such thing; news always means trouble, even it might not seem so at first.
"There's something I think you need to see. Right now, if you don't mind." I have, at the insistence of various people who had no right to speak, taught Ghost a bit about proper manners and etiquette. He gets the basics, I think; it's the smaller nuances that escape him, like what tone of voice to use when making a humble request. Or maybe he just understands more about manners than he lets on to.
"It can't wait?" Silly question. Luke gave me a look that reminded me of puppies. Drowned puppies, with the one responsible swearing high and low that he'd had nothing at all to do with it.
"You and Luke both, please." Ghost had certainly perfected the art of ignoring me. I wondered from which of my family-members he'd picked up that talent.
"Beam me up, Scotty!" Luke had risen. He was able to stand up straight, which shouldn't have surprised me, considering that I was beginning to feel regrettably sober myself, too. Either Ghost was doing something he wasn't supposed to, or I'd consumed less alcohol than I'd intended to.
Ghost produced a series of beeps that might have been meant to be an R2D2-imitation. "Roger that, Red Leader." Well, at least he was sticking to the right movie.
"Fine, let's get on with it." Accepting the inevitable isn't something most members of either of my families are very good at, but practice makes perfect, and I pride myself on being multi-talented.
Ghost made a whirring sound, worked his magic, and relocated the three (or two?) of us to ... somewhere. I couldn't see much more than the rock Luke and I were standing on, and the mist that limited our sight to a few feet.
"I don't think we're in Kansas anymore." Luke was either more drunk than I'd assumed he was, or Up To Something and playing dumb. Normally, and with nearly anyone else, I'd bet on the second, but his consistent quoting of the wrong movies seemed too out-of-character. Of course, he might just be doing that because he knew the way I thought.
"You weren't in Kansas earlier either," Ghost said. I wasn't sure if it was meant to be funny, or helpful.
"Spoilsport," Luke replied.
"Hypocritical moron." Ghost has gotten a good grasp of insults over time, but I think he's still working on when it's appropriate to use a particular term. I don't think Martin was very offended when Ghost called him a 'punk' for quoting that saying about artificial intelligence and human intelligence.
"Merle, any reason why we should stick around here? Let's get out of here, before this rain - oh shit." Luke held up his arm that had previously been covered by the sleeves of his shirt. "Acid rain? You said you'd talked to him about not becoming some psycho super-computer!"
"It only dissolves clothes, or, to be precise, non-biological matter." Ghost murmured sotto voce to me. He didn't seem very concerned about himself, so I assumed he'd either put up some sort of umbrella, or else was an exception to the rule.
"Ask your virtual pet why he's brought us here, will you? I'd really love to know." Luke stripped off his shirt, apparently feeling better getting rid of it himself than to have it fall apart bit by bit.
"People usually get naked before they have sex," Ghost declared. It was, I thought, a masterful non sequitur, worthy of, well, a member of my family. Then I thought some more, and an Idea began to loom in my mind. The Pattern had, after all, done something like this, too, hadn't it? Trapped me in some enclosed space with someone good-looking for whom I had a certain amount of affection ...
"It's not a matter of cause and effect," Luke informed Ghost in his best salesman-voice. "On top of that, sex requires a certain type of environment, which - "
"Why does everyone want to meddle in my love-life?" I demanded.
Luke looked like he was tempted to point out to me that, really, *he* hadn't done any meddling, had he? but had wisened up at the last second. Ghost had no expression I could feel satisfied about. I swear, if I ever build a super-computer again, I'll make sure I can read its moods.
"Because you have such bad judgment?" Ghost suggested. "No offense, Dad, but I don't approve of your fiancee at all, and you told me you'd settled all of your problems with Luke. I still don't really like him, but you seem to be fond of him, and at least he understands what I'm saying more than half the time." This was quite the relevation. I wondered just how much time Ghost had spent talking to Luke while I wasn't looking. I also wondered if putting Ghost up to this was Luke's idea of an April Fools joke. If it was, it'd be very hard to top.
"How about we continue this conversation somewhere a little more ... comfortable?" Luke proposed, with both hands raised, as if he were afraid either me or Ghost might start pelting him with tomatos, or something along those lines.
A hum, a flash, and we were ... somewhere with lots of pillows. Luke hadn't had the chance to pick up his shirt, and mine was reduced to shreds by that strange rain. I was grateful for the fact that both me and Luke prefered to wear pure-cotton jeans.
"Should I fetch something to drink?" Ghost asked, probably sarcastically. I mean, I hoped he wasn't actually acting like some sort of servant to Luke. I sort of trusted Luke, for the moment, but not *that* much.
"No, thanks." Luke made himself comfortable. "I don't mean to be rude, only ... "
"Oh. Yes, of course." Ghost shrinked to the size of a coin, then vanished completely. "I promise I won't watch, or listen in, or ... anything." And then, softly, to me: "Good luck, Dad." Cute. I was going to need that, I was sure.
"Is he really going to keep that promise?" Luke inquired. He sounded more curious than overly concerned about Ghost watching us while sitting on pillows, talking. Which, I was sure, would be all we were going to do.
"Probably," I said. Ghost had been exposed to various of my relatives now, but not to the point where he'd become as untrustworthy and slippery as them. "For all the good it'll do."
"You created him, so you've no right to complain." Luke smirked at me. "Now then, what's all this about you not wanting to marry Julia? I thought it was True Love between the two of you."
So had I. Before. Now, it had gotten a bit complicated, and nobody was being much of a help, least of all Julia herself, who simply didn't act like the person I remembered her to be. Memory is, of course, a tricky thing, so it's very well possible that I made her more perfect, more of an ideal, in my mind after her presumed death.
"I'm not sure anymore," I confessed.
Luke sighed. "Merle ... "
"What?" I didn't want Luke to go and come up with a solution that'd fix all of my problems. Ghost was bad enough; at least *he* had the decency to only solve my non-existent problems, and leave my existing ones for me to struggle with.
"I own this nice house, in a nice, far-away part of Shadow. It's got a beach with palm-trees next to it, good weather throughout the year, and a huge swimming-pool. Why don't you take a break for a while, go on a little vacation?" Luke sounded far too convincing, for my taste.
Obviously, I could find a house exactly like he'd described it myself, with little problems. On the other hand, why wouldn't I accept Luke's offer? I'd sat through dozens of Star Wars-marathons with him; what were a few weeks of relaxing on Bounty-island compared to that?
"Don't see why not." I shrugged.
"Shouldn't you get married before going on a honeymoon?" Ghost asked.
~end~