Fic: Of Dancing and Other Complications (Percy Promptfic)
Title: Of Dancing and Other Complications.
Wordcount: 1,622
Rating: G
Warning: None, except that Arthur does not actually appear in this, it's just a conversation between Percy and Merlin.
Summary: Percy has almost made up his mind to ask Lady Fleur to dance. Merlin is there to give him a few tips. (Features Lady Fleur from Percy the Legend, who is intended to be Blanchefleur, wife of Sir Percival in some of the legends)
A/N: This was written for giecast's prompt of 'Percy's first love' (although this is a rather loose interpretation of the prompt). This was originally posted in a flocked entry where I shamelessly begged for fic prompts and had a great time writing lots of different ideas. But now I'm reposting it publicly because I'm trying to sort out a Percy Masterlist (I have been told the links for the series are most confusing) and I want to add it :) So apologies if you've already seen this one! For those unfamiliar with Percy, he is a character from my Route to Advancement series who came to court, and was a bit hopeless and lost before he made friends with Merlin. My Percy verse follows his mishaps adventures, and his view of Arthur and Merlin's unusual master/servant relationship :)
Of Dancing and Other Complications
Percy had decided to ask Lady Fleur to dance at the feast that night. Or at least, he had almost decided. Perhaps. If no-one else asked her. Not that he thought no-one else would ask her, of course they would, Lady Fleur was not often lacking for partners, she had danced three times with Sir Kay at the last feast night (not that Percy had noticed). So it was not that she might lack partners, but rather that Percy did not wish to ask her if she was waiting to dance with someone else. He had almost asked her before, twice in fact, when he thought she might have been smiling at him across the crowded hall (although it was hard to tell with so many people there). The second time he had even got up the courage to smile back and bow and start moving towards her... and then Sir Geraint had appeared from nowhere and asked for her hand for the next dance and Lady Fleur had accepted, with a flustered curtsey, and Percy, hoping no-one had noticed him, had had to slip back to his group by the fire, which consisted of Prince Arthur and Sir Edwin discussing battle tactics and Merlin trying to make a tower out of pastries.
But tonight, he thought, was going to be different. Tonight he really would ask Lady Fleur and perhaps she-
“Percy have you been listening to a word I’ve said?”
Percy started, and blinked at Merlin who was looking highly indignant. “I beg your pardon?” he said, a little lamely.
Merlin sighed in the long suffering way that Percy more often associated with the Prince, and slumped back against the wall. “Honestly, there are people who would pay to hear the stories I have to tell about their Prince and you’re not even listening.”
“Is this about the chicken?” Percy hazarded.
Merlin rolled his eyes, “That was last week, Percy. I was talking about him being a complete ass.”
Percy rather thought that came up in every story Merlin told, but he didn’t think it would be polite to mention this so he settled for trying to look sympathetic, but probably looked confused instead. Come to think of it, he couldn’t remember anything Merlin had been saying, clearly the feast had been worrying him more that he’d realised.
“Never mind,” Merlin was saying, with a yawn. He reached for his coat, lying on the sun warmed grass and rooted in the pockets until he produced an apple (Percy hoped this wasn’t another one belonging to the Prince) and proceeded to take an enormous bite, asking through the mouthful of food, “What were you thinking about anyway? You looked miles away.”
“Nothing,” Percy said at once, but he could feel a tell-tale flush creeping up his face and it must have been enough because Merlin actually stopped eating and sat up.
“Percy?”
“It’s nothing important,” Percy said, embarrassed, “Just something I was trying to decide but it doesn’t-”
“Now you have to tell me!” said Merlin, abandoning his apple completely, and straightening attentively, “Come on, Percy. And please tell me it involves Arthur getting a rash. Or Sir Rhys. I don’t mind which, maybe it could be contagious.”
Percy thought his face must be bright scarlet by now, “Merlin! It’s nothing like that,” Merlin beamed at him encouragingly and really, Percy thought, it was Merlin after all, so he took a deep breath and said, awkwardly, “I was thinking... that is, I had almost decided I would ask Lady Fleur to dance at the feast tonight.”
“Oooooh,” Merlin let out the sound as one long breath, then, to Percy’s surprise, grinned and said, “I’m definitely going to win my penny back.”
“Your penny?” said Percy, utterly confused.
“Yes,” said Merlin cheerfully, “There was a bet - but never mind that now - I suppose you’d like some advice would you? Well, you’ve come to the right place!”
“Camelot?”
“No, me.”
“Oh,” said Percy, “I hadn’t really thought of-”
“It’s all right,” said Merlin, nodding very seriously, “I know you’re new at this sort of thing. You can dance though, I hope?”
“Oh yes,” Percy said, pleased that in that at least, he could not be found at fault, “My father made sure I had lessons.”
“Good,” said Merlin, “That will make things a lot easier. Gwen had to teach me, and between you and me, I think her foot still pains her.” Percy must have looked a bit shocked at that because Merlin soon hurried on, “So that at least should not be a problem. Now, have you thought how you’re going to ask her?”
He looked so expectant that Percy felt like he was letting him down in some awful way when he just said, “I was just going to... ask her. For the honour of the dance, I mean.”
Merlin looked disappointed, “That won’t do. You have to compliment ladies, Percy, they like that sort of thing.”
Percy knew, logically, that that must be true, though the compliments he was most familiar with giving centred on archery or Isolda managing to out-gallop him to the ford that lay beyond the castle pasture lands. He had complimented Lady Fleur on her archery before, of course (she was really very good now), but he supposed that wouldn’t be appropriate at a dance. “What sort of compliments?” he asked.
Merlin settled back again, and took a moment or two of deep thought, “You could say her dress was nice,” he said at last, “Or just tell her she looks pretty. I heard a knight tell Morgana once that her feminine grace shone brighter than the sun, but then he tried to kiss her and she hit him over the head with a candlestick so I don’t think they like you to go too far with the complimenting.”
Percy nodded and determined never to compliment the Lady Morgana too fulsomely. “So I should pay her a compliment, but not too much, and then ask?” he said, hesitant.
“Yes,” said Merlin decisively. Percy nodded, relieved. “And then fetch her a drink afterwards.”
“A drink?”
“You always have to fetch them a drink, Percy, or Arthur always does anyway. Although I think it’s usually the ladies who ask in that case -drinking to forget the awful experience I expect - but if you ask first, that might impress them even more.”
Percy began to feel worried that this whole dancing business was littered with social formalities he knew nothing about. “Do I have to stay with her while she drinks it?”
Merlin looked at him disapprovingly, “Of course. You can’t just wander off and leave her, usually they’ll need to take your arm for a moment - because of the fatigue I think - and they might ask you to take them outside for some air.”
This really didn’t sound familiar to Percy at all, but then he had long suspected his sister and Lady Morgana were not the same as all the other court ladies. “Are you sure everyone does this?”
“Absolutely,” said Merlin, then wrinkled his nose, “Well, Arthur always has to do it anyway.”
Percy supposed that if the Prince did it, it must be all right. “And that’s it? We go for some air and then come back in?”
Merlin heaved a sigh, “I think so. I usually have to go and tell Arthur the stables are on fire if he’s longer than three minutes.” Percy stared. “It’s all right,” said Merlin, “They’re not really. Well, once they were, but that was just a lucky coincidence.”
“I hope no-one was hurt?” Percy said -he certainly didn’t remember any stable fire so it must have happened before he came to Camelot.
“Oh no,” said Merlin, “It was only the feed room and Arthur helped to put it out himself. A lot of the ladies came to help actually, or mainly just to watch I wasn’t sure, although they probably shouldn’t have done either because Arthur had to take his shirt off.”
Percy suspected his father wouldn’t have approved of Isolda being around a stable fire, or a man with his shirt off so he nodded, understandingly, then sighed, “I don’t even know if Lady Fleur will say yes yet. This might all be for nothing.”
“Of course she will say yes,” Merlin said, firmly, “My plans never fail.” Percy looked at him. “Well, all right, sometimes they fail. But never the important plans. Except when they do. But that’s usually Arthur’s fault, not mine.” When Percy just raised his eyebrows, Merlin sighed. “All right, sometimes it’s partially my fault. But,” he finished virtuously, “I am just a lowly manservant and am compelled to follow the example of my employer.”
Percy absolutely did not smile at this, but Merlin, having no such qualms, grinned openly and then clambered to his feet, “Come along then, Percy, we’ve got a busy afternoon ahead.”
“What? Why?” Percy said, nervously, as he stood up and tried to dust the worst of the grass from his breeches and tunic.
Merlin shook his head at him, as if Percy was a hopeless case, and said, “The feast! We have to get you ready.”
“But I am ready,” Percy protested.
“And that’s just what Sir Rhys thought before he found someone had magicked all his breeches yellow - preparation is the key to success Percy!”
“I thought that was a laundry accident?!” Percy said, but Merlin was already hurrying away towards the castle entrance and he had no choice but to run to catch him up, “Are you sure this is a good idea?”
“Of course,” said Merlin, happily, “This is me, Percy.”
And really, that was what Percy was afraid of.
The End.
Wordcount: 1,622
Rating: G
Warning: None, except that Arthur does not actually appear in this, it's just a conversation between Percy and Merlin.
Summary: Percy has almost made up his mind to ask Lady Fleur to dance. Merlin is there to give him a few tips. (Features Lady Fleur from Percy the Legend, who is intended to be Blanchefleur, wife of Sir Percival in some of the legends)
A/N: This was written for giecast's prompt of 'Percy's first love' (although this is a rather loose interpretation of the prompt). This was originally posted in a flocked entry where I shamelessly begged for fic prompts and had a great time writing lots of different ideas. But now I'm reposting it publicly because I'm trying to sort out a Percy Masterlist (I have been told the links for the series are most confusing) and I want to add it :) So apologies if you've already seen this one! For those unfamiliar with Percy, he is a character from my Route to Advancement series who came to court, and was a bit hopeless and lost before he made friends with Merlin. My Percy verse follows his mishaps adventures, and his view of Arthur and Merlin's unusual master/servant relationship :)
Of Dancing and Other Complications
Percy had decided to ask Lady Fleur to dance at the feast that night. Or at least, he had almost decided. Perhaps. If no-one else asked her. Not that he thought no-one else would ask her, of course they would, Lady Fleur was not often lacking for partners, she had danced three times with Sir Kay at the last feast night (not that Percy had noticed). So it was not that she might lack partners, but rather that Percy did not wish to ask her if she was waiting to dance with someone else. He had almost asked her before, twice in fact, when he thought she might have been smiling at him across the crowded hall (although it was hard to tell with so many people there). The second time he had even got up the courage to smile back and bow and start moving towards her... and then Sir Geraint had appeared from nowhere and asked for her hand for the next dance and Lady Fleur had accepted, with a flustered curtsey, and Percy, hoping no-one had noticed him, had had to slip back to his group by the fire, which consisted of Prince Arthur and Sir Edwin discussing battle tactics and Merlin trying to make a tower out of pastries.
But tonight, he thought, was going to be different. Tonight he really would ask Lady Fleur and perhaps she-
“Percy have you been listening to a word I’ve said?”
Percy started, and blinked at Merlin who was looking highly indignant. “I beg your pardon?” he said, a little lamely.
Merlin sighed in the long suffering way that Percy more often associated with the Prince, and slumped back against the wall. “Honestly, there are people who would pay to hear the stories I have to tell about their Prince and you’re not even listening.”
“Is this about the chicken?” Percy hazarded.
Merlin rolled his eyes, “That was last week, Percy. I was talking about him being a complete ass.”
Percy rather thought that came up in every story Merlin told, but he didn’t think it would be polite to mention this so he settled for trying to look sympathetic, but probably looked confused instead. Come to think of it, he couldn’t remember anything Merlin had been saying, clearly the feast had been worrying him more that he’d realised.
“Never mind,” Merlin was saying, with a yawn. He reached for his coat, lying on the sun warmed grass and rooted in the pockets until he produced an apple (Percy hoped this wasn’t another one belonging to the Prince) and proceeded to take an enormous bite, asking through the mouthful of food, “What were you thinking about anyway? You looked miles away.”
“Nothing,” Percy said at once, but he could feel a tell-tale flush creeping up his face and it must have been enough because Merlin actually stopped eating and sat up.
“Percy?”
“It’s nothing important,” Percy said, embarrassed, “Just something I was trying to decide but it doesn’t-”
“Now you have to tell me!” said Merlin, abandoning his apple completely, and straightening attentively, “Come on, Percy. And please tell me it involves Arthur getting a rash. Or Sir Rhys. I don’t mind which, maybe it could be contagious.”
Percy thought his face must be bright scarlet by now, “Merlin! It’s nothing like that,” Merlin beamed at him encouragingly and really, Percy thought, it was Merlin after all, so he took a deep breath and said, awkwardly, “I was thinking... that is, I had almost decided I would ask Lady Fleur to dance at the feast tonight.”
“Oooooh,” Merlin let out the sound as one long breath, then, to Percy’s surprise, grinned and said, “I’m definitely going to win my penny back.”
“Your penny?” said Percy, utterly confused.
“Yes,” said Merlin cheerfully, “There was a bet - but never mind that now - I suppose you’d like some advice would you? Well, you’ve come to the right place!”
“Camelot?”
“No, me.”
“Oh,” said Percy, “I hadn’t really thought of-”
“It’s all right,” said Merlin, nodding very seriously, “I know you’re new at this sort of thing. You can dance though, I hope?”
“Oh yes,” Percy said, pleased that in that at least, he could not be found at fault, “My father made sure I had lessons.”
“Good,” said Merlin, “That will make things a lot easier. Gwen had to teach me, and between you and me, I think her foot still pains her.” Percy must have looked a bit shocked at that because Merlin soon hurried on, “So that at least should not be a problem. Now, have you thought how you’re going to ask her?”
He looked so expectant that Percy felt like he was letting him down in some awful way when he just said, “I was just going to... ask her. For the honour of the dance, I mean.”
Merlin looked disappointed, “That won’t do. You have to compliment ladies, Percy, they like that sort of thing.”
Percy knew, logically, that that must be true, though the compliments he was most familiar with giving centred on archery or Isolda managing to out-gallop him to the ford that lay beyond the castle pasture lands. He had complimented Lady Fleur on her archery before, of course (she was really very good now), but he supposed that wouldn’t be appropriate at a dance. “What sort of compliments?” he asked.
Merlin settled back again, and took a moment or two of deep thought, “You could say her dress was nice,” he said at last, “Or just tell her she looks pretty. I heard a knight tell Morgana once that her feminine grace shone brighter than the sun, but then he tried to kiss her and she hit him over the head with a candlestick so I don’t think they like you to go too far with the complimenting.”
Percy nodded and determined never to compliment the Lady Morgana too fulsomely. “So I should pay her a compliment, but not too much, and then ask?” he said, hesitant.
“Yes,” said Merlin decisively. Percy nodded, relieved. “And then fetch her a drink afterwards.”
“A drink?”
“You always have to fetch them a drink, Percy, or Arthur always does anyway. Although I think it’s usually the ladies who ask in that case -drinking to forget the awful experience I expect - but if you ask first, that might impress them even more.”
Percy began to feel worried that this whole dancing business was littered with social formalities he knew nothing about. “Do I have to stay with her while she drinks it?”
Merlin looked at him disapprovingly, “Of course. You can’t just wander off and leave her, usually they’ll need to take your arm for a moment - because of the fatigue I think - and they might ask you to take them outside for some air.”
This really didn’t sound familiar to Percy at all, but then he had long suspected his sister and Lady Morgana were not the same as all the other court ladies. “Are you sure everyone does this?”
“Absolutely,” said Merlin, then wrinkled his nose, “Well, Arthur always has to do it anyway.”
Percy supposed that if the Prince did it, it must be all right. “And that’s it? We go for some air and then come back in?”
Merlin heaved a sigh, “I think so. I usually have to go and tell Arthur the stables are on fire if he’s longer than three minutes.” Percy stared. “It’s all right,” said Merlin, “They’re not really. Well, once they were, but that was just a lucky coincidence.”
“I hope no-one was hurt?” Percy said -he certainly didn’t remember any stable fire so it must have happened before he came to Camelot.
“Oh no,” said Merlin, “It was only the feed room and Arthur helped to put it out himself. A lot of the ladies came to help actually, or mainly just to watch I wasn’t sure, although they probably shouldn’t have done either because Arthur had to take his shirt off.”
Percy suspected his father wouldn’t have approved of Isolda being around a stable fire, or a man with his shirt off so he nodded, understandingly, then sighed, “I don’t even know if Lady Fleur will say yes yet. This might all be for nothing.”
“Of course she will say yes,” Merlin said, firmly, “My plans never fail.” Percy looked at him. “Well, all right, sometimes they fail. But never the important plans. Except when they do. But that’s usually Arthur’s fault, not mine.” When Percy just raised his eyebrows, Merlin sighed. “All right, sometimes it’s partially my fault. But,” he finished virtuously, “I am just a lowly manservant and am compelled to follow the example of my employer.”
Percy absolutely did not smile at this, but Merlin, having no such qualms, grinned openly and then clambered to his feet, “Come along then, Percy, we’ve got a busy afternoon ahead.”
“What? Why?” Percy said, nervously, as he stood up and tried to dust the worst of the grass from his breeches and tunic.
Merlin shook his head at him, as if Percy was a hopeless case, and said, “The feast! We have to get you ready.”
“But I am ready,” Percy protested.
“And that’s just what Sir Rhys thought before he found someone had magicked all his breeches yellow - preparation is the key to success Percy!”
“I thought that was a laundry accident?!” Percy said, but Merlin was already hurrying away towards the castle entrance and he had no choice but to run to catch him up, “Are you sure this is a good idea?”
“Of course,” said Merlin, happily, “This is me, Percy.”
And really, that was what Percy was afraid of.
The End.