Merlin Fic: Monastery!Merlin, or, what happens when the router goes down.
So how do I manage to get some writing done? Try having the router down and thus no internets.
Thus, a Merlin fic has begun.
As Yet Unnamed Monastery!Merlin Fic
by Icarus
"I'm grateful you could visit so early this season, King Ulric," Uther said, beaming with good cheer. Several glasses of wine had brought a high color to his cheeks.
The fire snapped on the hearth, embers low this late in the evening. Merlin leaned forward to refresh Arthur's wine. But Arthur covered his goblet with his palm, giving a shake of his head, his eyes on the future rival of Camelot. Not King Ulric, who was a jovial, bearded old man, but his son, Prince Aldred, with the tumbled dark hair and intense eyes.
Prince Aldred gave Arthur a brief, tense smile that was gone in an instant, single-mindedly focused on the king.
He and Arthur had already met.
~*~*~
A light breeze blew up the stairs between the palace columns. Arthur paused on the castle steps, wrinkling his nose. He first looked at Merlin, a step behind him. Merlin caught the accusing glance--along with a whiff of sudden stench--and Merlin rolled his eyes. So Arthur checked the bottom of his own boots. Which prompted Merlin to check his. Nothing stuck on from the stables. As one they turned to find a mendicant in rags climbing the palace steps, leaning heavily on a staff.
"I wish ... to speak ... to the king...." the creature rasped, raising his arms to plant his staff on the next step. The stench increased with the wave of his ... well, whatever it was he wore.
To his credit, Arthur simply took a breath and said, "The public audiences are once a month, the next in a fortnight. You are welcome to attend." He managed it without breathing in once.
Merlin cringed a smile. He could imagine what Uther's reaction would be.
"But I wish to see him now!" the mendicant insisted, deep set eyes glaring from under his hood. Commanding the prince. Merlin raised his eyebrows and peered at Arthur warily, but Arthur took it in stride.
"I don't know what to tell you," Arthur said with a broad, open-armed shrug. He left as quickly as possible, chin down to escape the smell.
The mendicant's voice turned urgent, anxious. "But I can't wait a fortnight!"
The worry in his voice got to Merlin, who braved the smell to step closer. "Hmm, yes, you don't look like you could afford two weeks in an Inn."
The mendicant stood somewhat straighter, and seemed younger than he had at first glance. Probably just desperately poor. Who knew what circumstance had brought him to this? Perhaps the very thing he wanted to speak to the king about.
"I'll tell you what," Merlin said, thinking quickly. "I'll send some food from the kitchens for you. You can go ahead and camp outside the city for a week or two. No one will know." Merlin gave him an encouraging nod as the man's expression turned to wonder, staring at Merlin like he was a savior. "Don't shoot any deer--those are the king's--but the rabbits are fair game."
"You'd feed me from the king's own table?" the mendicant said, astonished.
"As good as," Merlin said, breaking into a grin. He pointed at the steps with his finger. "Wait right here."
~*~*~
The mendicant had eaten greedily, with none of the delicate grace of Prince Aldred, whose wine goblet Merlin filled now. But the dark, deep set glaring eyes were the same.
Merlin could say one thing for their mendicant. He'd certainly cleaned up well.
Also posted at http://icarus.dreamwidth.org, comment wherever you please.
Thus, a Merlin fic has begun.
As Yet Unnamed Monastery!Merlin Fic
by Icarus
"I'm grateful you could visit so early this season, King Ulric," Uther said, beaming with good cheer. Several glasses of wine had brought a high color to his cheeks.
The fire snapped on the hearth, embers low this late in the evening. Merlin leaned forward to refresh Arthur's wine. But Arthur covered his goblet with his palm, giving a shake of his head, his eyes on the future rival of Camelot. Not King Ulric, who was a jovial, bearded old man, but his son, Prince Aldred, with the tumbled dark hair and intense eyes.
Prince Aldred gave Arthur a brief, tense smile that was gone in an instant, single-mindedly focused on the king.
He and Arthur had already met.
~*~*~
A light breeze blew up the stairs between the palace columns. Arthur paused on the castle steps, wrinkling his nose. He first looked at Merlin, a step behind him. Merlin caught the accusing glance--along with a whiff of sudden stench--and Merlin rolled his eyes. So Arthur checked the bottom of his own boots. Which prompted Merlin to check his. Nothing stuck on from the stables. As one they turned to find a mendicant in rags climbing the palace steps, leaning heavily on a staff.
"I wish ... to speak ... to the king...." the creature rasped, raising his arms to plant his staff on the next step. The stench increased with the wave of his ... well, whatever it was he wore.
To his credit, Arthur simply took a breath and said, "The public audiences are once a month, the next in a fortnight. You are welcome to attend." He managed it without breathing in once.
Merlin cringed a smile. He could imagine what Uther's reaction would be.
"But I wish to see him now!" the mendicant insisted, deep set eyes glaring from under his hood. Commanding the prince. Merlin raised his eyebrows and peered at Arthur warily, but Arthur took it in stride.
"I don't know what to tell you," Arthur said with a broad, open-armed shrug. He left as quickly as possible, chin down to escape the smell.
The mendicant's voice turned urgent, anxious. "But I can't wait a fortnight!"
The worry in his voice got to Merlin, who braved the smell to step closer. "Hmm, yes, you don't look like you could afford two weeks in an Inn."
The mendicant stood somewhat straighter, and seemed younger than he had at first glance. Probably just desperately poor. Who knew what circumstance had brought him to this? Perhaps the very thing he wanted to speak to the king about.
"I'll tell you what," Merlin said, thinking quickly. "I'll send some food from the kitchens for you. You can go ahead and camp outside the city for a week or two. No one will know." Merlin gave him an encouraging nod as the man's expression turned to wonder, staring at Merlin like he was a savior. "Don't shoot any deer--those are the king's--but the rabbits are fair game."
"You'd feed me from the king's own table?" the mendicant said, astonished.
"As good as," Merlin said, breaking into a grin. He pointed at the steps with his finger. "Wait right here."
~*~*~
The mendicant had eaten greedily, with none of the delicate grace of Prince Aldred, whose wine goblet Merlin filled now. But the dark, deep set glaring eyes were the same.
Merlin could say one thing for their mendicant. He'd certainly cleaned up well.
Also posted at http://icarus.dreamwidth.org, comment wherever you please.