Kink Me! #28closed to new promptsWelcome to Kink Me! Merlin #28!
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…Arthur’s face, triumphant with goals scored, was prominent, Merlin noted. As the video tribute wound down the announcer, nearly drowned out by the terrible music, loud cheers and roar of thundersticks, welcomed everyone to the 2012-2013 season and invited them to say hello to your Londonnnnn KNIGHTS. One by one, the London players were summoned, each skating hard for the first painted blue line on the ice surface as the crowd roared their appreciation.
”Number nine, the captain of your Knights, from right here in London, Ontario - Arthurrrrr Pen-der-gaaaaast!”
If possible, the noise grew louder when Arthur emerged - Gwen and Morgana, already standing and applauding and having dragged Merlin up to do the same, bounced a little and beamed at one another, giddy. Their joy in the moment, fawning over their hometown team, struck Merlin with a fierce homesickness - rugby matches at Millennium Stadium were like this (tens of thousands more voices added to the fray, of course); all fiercely loyal fans happy to bedeck themselves in their team’s colours and cheer at the top of their voices for their favourite players. He nearly lost himself in the sadness that swamped him, wishing to be home in Ealdor, pulling an all-nighter in Cardiff with Will and Freya, stumbling drunken with laughter and joy down St Mary Street while chavs and barely-dressed girls yelled insults and taunts from pub doors.
And then Gwen nearly deafened him with a piercing ”WOOOOOOOOOOO!” when Elyan was introduced. She seized Merlin’s shoulder with both hands and shook him as she bellowed and bounced, trying to draw him along in her enthusiasm. Merlin managed a self-conscious cheer, only mildly terrified by calm, soothing Gwen seized with madness.
When each Knight was standing along the blue line, the announcer went on to introduce the coaching staff and everyone who worked for the team, from president/owner Uther Pendergast to the eleven-year-old stick boy, Mordred. Helen something-or-other sang the Canadian national anthem, and then Merlin found his attention wandering again as Uther Pendergast made a speech about the promise shown by the lads in the preseason, and how the fans were in for a treat this year, and blah blah blah. At long last the lights were brought back up and most of the Knights players retreated to their bench, leaving the first line to strap their helmets back into place and get ready for the start of the game: the real face-off, which took place after a ceremonial face-off. Merlin face-palmed.
He could feel Gwen shaking with laughter beside him. “I promise it doesn’t always take this long to get started,” she giggled.
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You've captured it so perfectly, all the colour and noise and bustle and fanfare. Laughing at the Kitchener Rangers, that's hubby's hometown, although he never liked hockey.
Can't wait for more school interaction - Arthur's not making himself well-liked, is he? But I know the crush is coming. Bring it!
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There will be plenty more at school, as well - because apparently even though it's primarily a hockey prompt I can't stop myself trying to develop it as much as possible. =P
Thanks for the comment; I hope the rest doesn't disappoint!! <3
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Thanks for commenting, anon!! <3
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Looking forward for more!
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Thanks so much for the comment; I hope the rest doesn't disappoint!
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Whoever would have believed that there were only so many times Merlin could watch a swarm of heavily-padded blokes balanced precariously on thin metal blades skate up and down a relatively small surface of ice in pursuit of a black rubber disc? The Knights were ahead 2-1, and currently the clock was ticking down thirty seconds as both teams huddled around their benches while coaches gesticulated wildly. Merlin stifled a yawn, if only to avoid disapproving glances from Uther Pendergast. Morgana’s father had joined them in the skybox about halfway through the first period and Merlin knew immediately where Arthur had received his talent for making people feel like insects under a microscope. Uther Pendergast had borne Morgana’s introduction without removing his gaze from Merlin, whom Uther had pinpointed the instant he’d walked into the room. His handshake was one hand-breaking squeeze, his greeting coolly reserved. Uther was positively doting over Morgana, however, and when she coaxed him to sit and help her and Gwen teach Merlin the rules of the game Uther lounged in his seat easy as a giant cat, allowing Merlin to escape back to his seat beside Gwen.
He was honestly making an effort to be engaged and to learn the rules; he really was. If their situations were reversed he’d appreciate Gwen and Morgana trying to see his favourite things from a Welsh point of view…it was difficult to keep up the façade of being engaged, though. Merlin kept being distracted by the mascot - a knight with an oversized helmeted head - parading around the arena with a trail of small children pursuing him. For the most part the rules of the game were fairly simple - like other sports, the entire point was to put the thing in the goal, but in terms of the intricacies of the sport Merlin’s understanding was hitherto limited to:
1) The game was really (quite impressively, Merlin allowed) fast - fans roared approval and disapproval before Merlin ever noticed anything impressive or untoward had just happened.
2) Shooting the puck from your team’s end of the ice down to the other team’s end of the ice made the referee blow his whistle and bring everyone down to your end and have a face-off. But then again, sometimes it didn’t.
3) The whole situation of officials was utterly bollocks: three of them milling around the ice, getting in the way of players and the puck. Merlin didn’t care what hockey protocol dictated - a tiny hop as the puck or insanely-armoured players were charging toward you did not constitute self-preservation. One of the linesmen had already been checked to the ice to roars of laughter from the crowd.
4) Ice hockey fans were just as quick to verbally attack the referees for not calling a penalty against the opposing team as they were to attack the referee for calling a penalty on their team when, really, the two plays were exactly the same.
Really, the most exciting bit was when one of the Kitchener players hit Arthur hard into the boards, dropping him to the ice nearly head-first, and Gwaine immediately leapt on the assailant. Next to Gwen, Morgana flung herself to her feet and started shouting encouragement and insults that, out of context, would probably have her arrested; Uther and Gwen were a little more restrained. Uther, in fact, looked mildly embarrassed. On the ice, Gwaine and the Ranger flung their thick gloves off and fell on one another with awkward-looking punches at which Merlin had a hard time not laughing. In the end Arthur was fine, and Gwaine was served with the same penalty as the lad who’d hit Arthur in the first place. What an accomplishment, Merlin thought. “What was the point of that?” he asked Gwen quietly. Derisively.
“It’s a matter of honour - the boys jump in and help one another. Gwaine more than most," she added with a smile.
Merlin snorted. “So Arthur can’t even defend himself?”
He gasped when Gwen’s knobby elbow dug into his ribs. “Of course he can,” she hissed. “It’s the principle of the thing. Everyone watches everyone else’s back. Just because you don’t like Arthur -“
“I never said I don’t like-“
“Lance told me what happened at school”.
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Gwen looped her arm through his. “Arthur may be an ass sometimes, but he’s actually really sweet. I bet he’s just been waiting for a chance to apologise”.
Merlin rolled his eyes without Gwen seeing. “Maybe”. Though three weeks, during which Merlin saw him every single day in biology, was a long time to hold off on an apology.
Another cheer went up from the crowd. Even Uther was brought to his feet with a terrifying roar. Morgana leaned down to Gwen and Merlin to be heard.“Stop gossiping there!” she teased. “You just missed Percy absolutely deck Eborly!”
Merlin and Gwen's simultaneous ”Damn it”s were uttered in very, very different tones.
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Especially Merlin's observations and “Arthur may be an ass sometimes, but he’s actually really sweet. I bet he’s just been waiting for a chance to apologise”
Haha.
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Love this fic to bits. I'm excited to see how these bio labs are going for the pair of them xD
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I love the fact that you have mixed hockey with high-school fic. Sport AUs and Highschool AUs are my favourite modern tropes in the Merlin fandom.
Plus, your prose is impressive. It's so easy to get caught up in the enthusiasm (you've captured the feeling of being at the game so well, I could almost smell it somehow), it really flows. I'm looking forward to the day when this fic is finished and I can read it all in one go.
Keep on writing, dear author!anon, kudos and cookies and kittens to you!
P.S. I'm already having dizzy fantasies of Merlin wearing nothing but Arthur's hockey jersey. :)
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I really wanted the boys to interact not only in the rink, because as a sort of "foreign" student I couldn't make myself believe that they'd interact meaningfully enough if their only meetings were in the rink either before or after hockey games...and this age group of hockey players (where I'm from anyway) often attend local high schools while they're playing, so I thought it'd be a good way to introduce and have a lot of their interactions!
and damn, now you have that image in my head! =P
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The celebration after the game was awkward. First of all, Merlin was unclear as to why winning the very first game of the season warranted any sort of party - shouldn’t that be held until the end? Second, Merlin lamented as Gwen locked his upper arm between the crook of her elbow and her ribs on the way down to the lower level, he didn’t know these people. It was not, as Morgana insisted, a chance for him to make new friends. It was a chance to be reminded that he was the scrawny, out of place exchange student who’d been embarrassed in the middle of a school corridor by the team celebrity and his friends. Merlin desperately tried to beg off, citing homework and jetlag and everything in between, but Uther Pendergast ended up clapping one heavy, terrifying hand on his shoulder and insisted, which settled the manner. ”That means he likes you!” Gwen hissed excitedly.
Merlin rotated his sore shoulder, dreading the thought of what signified Pendergast’s dislike of somebody. Apparently Merlin was a delightful foreign novelty and was to be paraded in front of these, the fifteen-to-twenty year olds most of this city worshipped as some sort of deities. Gwen and Morgana proved to be no help or support; they merely bounced and hugged him some more when Merlin resigned himself to his fate. There were handfuls of still-shouting fans loitering around the arena, all hoping for a glimpse of their junior league hockey heroes, all being half-heartedly restrained from descending the stairs to the locker room area by security guards who checked their watches with bored frowns. Merlin felt oddly like a lamb being led to slaughter, and the feeling only increased when they finally stopped in front of a closed door through which the hoots and hollers of young men could be heard. Uther proudly shoved the door open with a flourish, calling, “I hope you’re all decent in here, boys - you have guests!”
The smell of ripe hockey gear was definitely something Merlin’s nostrils could have done without. No one else seemed to notice - small wonder; being exposed to that stench had probably burned out their olfactory nerves years ago - and Merlin concentrated on taking slow, shallow breaths through his mouth. Leon didn’t help when he swept by in a rush of smelly, sweaty air and slung an arm around Morgana, who shrieked and protested that he was completely disgusting, and she was definitely getting a restraining order until he showered. “Hey - Merlin, right?” Leon grinned amiably and offered a hand. “This your first hockey game?”
“Erm - yeah”. Merlin winced - even Leon’s hand was sweaty. “Good - great match. Congratulations. Can’t say I knew what was happening sometimes, but…you know; way to score more goals than the other team”.
Leon and a few of the other lads in earshot burst out laughing. “Keep hanging out with Morgana and Gwen, Merlin”. Lance sidled up to join them, smiling shyly at Gwen. “You’ll learn the ropes in no time; we’ll be the first OHL team with a Welsh number-one fan”.
Merlin chuckled weakly. “Right”.
“Arthur! C’mere - Merlin, Merlin, this is Arthur Pendergast, the step-brother I’ve told you about. Arthur, this is Merlin Emrys. He’s the exchange student living with Gwen’s family”.
Arthur’s face was flushed from exertion, his bright grin still radiant as he approached Morgana and Gwen - that is until he caught sight of Merlin, apparently, after which his expression dimmed a little. Merlin certainly noticed the dimming smile immediately; he was not at all too busy staring at the way Arthur’s Under Armour compression t-shirt clung to his arms and chest, and the way he was still dressed in his gear from the waist down, meaning his padded pants were hanging low on his hips, revealing a tantalising glimpse of skin where the compression shirt rode up…no, Merlin certainly didn’t notice those things at all; he was absolutely completely utterly focused on the way Arthur’s eyes narrowed when he registered Merlin standing there in Arthur’s team’s dressing room between Arthur’s step-sister and Arthur’s childhood friend.
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