The Power of the Flower [KMM Fill]
Title: The Power of the Flower
Sumary: written for KMM prompt. The magical beings of Camelot try to show their frustration at the King in a new way.
A/N: written over at KMM, de-anoned and posted to my Jounral, am trying to be organised and keep all my fic in one place.
‘Finally’ thought Bethane, as he appeared in the centre of Camelot’s great feasting hall to be met with the surprised shouts of Camelot’s Prince and King. ‘Finally my time has come’. He lifted his hand toward the head table, his target the King; the words were on the tip of his tongue…
A large flash of golden light and the hall stilled, guards with swords half out of their belts, The King in an uncomfortable pose, half out of his chair, and the Prince already striding confidently forward, all froze in time. Bethane looked around in shock, he hadn’t done that (or if he did it was entirely unintentional, and impressive, maybe he was stronger than he thought. He would have to tell his master about this one, he would be proud, maybe he would be allowed that pet griffon he asked for). The sorcerer’s smug smile fell off his face when he turned to find himself nose to nose with a pale, slim man, with fire in his eyes. Bethane stumbled a few steps back in surprise, the mystery man didn’t budge, just stood, arms crossed over his chest, staring at him with his golden stare.
Just when Bethane was about to stammer some sort of coherent question the young man threw his arms up in exasperation, “Seriously!?” the boy yelled. Bethane wasn’t sure whether that was a question or a statement, either way it didn’t really make sense. He opened his mouth to make that point when the boy continued. “Seriously? Another assassination attempt? Don’t you have anything better to do with your time than to waste mine?”
Bethane scowled at this boy, and drew himself to full height. “Uther has killed-“
“Yes Uther has killed many people,” the boy interrupted, “He killed my wife, he killed my father, he killed my neighbours third cousin once removed, blah blah blah! I hear the same speech every damn week.” On the last word Bethane felt power like a punch hit his chest, shoving him back a few steps, causing him to trip on his long cloak and fall on his arse to the floor. The boy in front noticed and took a calming breath. “Sorry.” He whispered. “Just… Isn’t this kind of proving Uther right?” Eyes, now returned to a piercing blue, locked with Bethane’s. Seeing Bethane’s confusion the boy continued, “He thinks Magic is evil.” He explained slowly as if talking to a child, “so he kills magic users, then magic users try to kill him because he killed magic users, so he thinks Magic is evil. It’s just circle that goes round and round and it never. Bloody. Ends!” The boy ran his hands through his short black hair muttering to himself about ‘idiotic sorcerer's’ and ‘stubborn kings’ and how he ‘would really like to get a full night’s sleep once in a while’.
“Look, I will let you go this time. Because I am tired and cranky and just want to go home to bed. I can’t be bothered to deal with you. So I want you to remember that I have spared you and I want you to go home and think about what you have done.”
“Who are you?” Bethane whispered, still sat on the floor.
“You can call me Emrys.” Emyrs. The name flittered through Bethane conscious, the Emrys? But he was nothing more than a boy.
“Go.” The boy waved at Bethane, when Bethane didn’t manage to move the warlock spoke again. “Shew!” he hissed. Tripping over his cloak in his haste to get up Bethane raised to standing. With a hasty murmur of words he disappeared in a whirl of wind leaving the pale boy stood at the centre of the hall. The boy, with his hands on his hips, shook his head in exasperation and disappeared back into the crowd
A moment later time restarted, the King and the Prince stumbling slightly then blinking in shock.
“The sorcerer!” Bellowed the King, “Where did he go?”
“I am not sure my lord.” Answered the prince, a bewildered look on his face as his turned on the spot searching for where the man could have disappeared to in the blink of an eye.
“Call the knights!” the King ordered, face screwing with rage. “I want this magic user on the pyre by sun up tomorrow!”
In the dark corner of the hall a pair of blue eyes rolled in their sockets before dutifully following after his prince.
*
“You met Emrys!”
“What was he like?”
“Was he tall?”
“Was he handsome?”
“Did he have a tail?” The council of the Elders all turned to stare incredulously and Aladon who shrugged, “What, I heard it was true?” They all dismissed him with a shake of their heads and turned back to Bethane who was giving his report.
“How did you escape?” enquired Jacob, their leader, “How did you defeat him?”
“I didn’t! He just let me go!”
“He let you go?” they bellowed in unison.
“Yes, he told me to go away and think about what I had done.”
“What did he say?”
“He said not to try to Kill Uther any more.”
“Not kill Uther? But how else are we supposed to bring magic back to Camelot?”
“Kill Arthur?”
“Kill Morgana?”
“Capture Camelot?”
“No… Listen, I have a plan….”
*
Prince Arthur was awoken unceremoniously by an erratic Knight charging into his chambers. “Sire! Sire!” The Knight called; eyes wide like saucers.
“What?” the Prince grumbled into his pillow.
“We are under attack!” That got the prince jumping out of bed; he grabbed his sword and ran to the armoury.
*
Prince Arthur came to stand next to his father up on the battlements of Camelot staring at the strange sight in front of them.
“What is the meaning of this?” spat Uther, gesturing to the scene.
“Apparently it is called a Sit-In sire.” Arthur looked out beyond the walls of Camelot castle. Completely surrounding the castle proper were groups upon groups of men, women and children, sitting.
“A sit-in?” Uther bellowed. “What in god’s name is a sit in?”
“Well... exactly as it sounds my lord. They… sit”
“They Sit?!?”
“Yes sire.”
“And why are they… sitting?”
“They are apparently staging, and I quote, ‘A protest against the unlawful killing of magic users in Camelot’.”
“They’re Sorcerers?” Uther spat.
“I believe they are father.”
“Well that settles it; they must be removed at once. Use whatever force is necessary to remove this evil from our lands.”
The prince hesitated, looking over the fields to watch the children playing, the men laughing joyfully and the women braiding each other’s hair “They don’t look very evil father.”
“That is all part of their plan Arthur, don’t let them fool you. Ready your knights.”
“As you wish father.”
*
Later that night King Uther had sequestered himself in his throne room, secure in the knowledge that his son and his knights were disposing of the menaces of his Kingdom as he spoke. No sooner had he finished the thought when the heavy wooden doors swung open to reveal a very confused looking crown prince.
“Arthur. Is it taken care of?”
“Not quite father.”
“What do you mean, not quite? Are they still there?”
“Yes my Lord.”
“How can this be Arthur, you and your Knights are the finest fighters in the land and they are just… sitting.”
“Well sire, as soon as we advanced on them our swords were bewitched.”
“Bewitched? What did they do? Did your swords turn on you, did they burn hot? Did they explode into tiny pieces intended to blind even the most daring of fighter?”
“Not exactly father.” Uther waited as the Prince pulled something from the back of his sword belt. It was a flower, a long lily. Both father and son watch the flower in confusion.
“Send in the Archers then!” Uther ordered once he had regained his voice.
“We tried that sire.” Arthur pulled a skinny daisy from his belt pouch. Uther stared at it with a frown both shaking his head.
“Well… Try again Arthur. They will soon reveal their evil master plan and we will not be caught unawares.” The Prince let out an exasperated sigh.
“Of Course sire.”
*
Three weeks later and Camelot castle had never looked so wonderful. Flower garlands hung from all of the stair cases and banisters. The women skipped through the market place wearing their own crowns of daisies and the children weaved long chains from the stems. Everyone in Camelot was happy. Except for one King.
“How can this be happening Arthur! I will not have my city overrun by Sorcerers!”
“They do not seem to pose any threat father.”
“Ah that’s what they want you to think! No… Send another volley of arrows down into them, show them who’s in charge.”
“I cannot sire.”
“You cannot?”
“I am afraid that we have run out of arrows sire.”
“What?”
“We are out of arrow sire.”
“Well find something; throw rocks at them if you have to. Just get them away from my castle!”
*
Two months after the beginning of the magical sit in and Camelot citizens could not remember a time when the castle had been this joyous. Now to accompany the flower garlands they had small glittering crystals that illuminated at night. Children from the castle went outside and played games with the druid children, the sick from the castle were taken to the walls for healing and …..
“This isn’t working.” Hissed Drada one night out on the fields.
“I know, the king isn’t budging.”
“We need something more, something that will remind him that we are here.”
“I have an idea…”
*
King Uther was enjoying a wonderful dream that involved fire, a sorcerer and his crown when an annoying sound roused him. At first he couldn’t pinpoint what is was or where it was coming from. He sat up slowly in bed realising that it was coming from outside his bedroom window. Once he opened the pane the sound was clear across the city.
“Kumbaya my lord, Kumbaya. Kumbaya my lord, Kumbaya…”
“Guards!” the King bellowed. Immediately two men in armour stumbled into his chambers, swords drawn ready. “Fetch my son.”
*
“They’re singing.” King Uther stated, sitting ass regal as he could upon his throne in his night breeches and shirt.
“Yes father.” Mumbled the Prince, still half asleep, fisting his eyes as he stifled a yawn.
“Well…” Uther led, gesturing to the Prince.
“Well what my lord.”
“Stop them!”
“How can I stop them from singing?”
“Argh!” cried the King and he stormed off to his bed chambers to sleep, the sound of Kumbaya vibrating incecently through the castle.
*
Five days of no sleep later and the King snapped. “Arthur, make them go away. Tell them they can have anything, they can take the crown, they can have their own lands in the south, They can take the bloody cloak from my back, just stop them from singing that infuriating song!”
“Of course Father.”
*
And that is how flower power and Kumbaya brought Magic back to Camelot.
Sumary: written for KMM prompt. The magical beings of Camelot try to show their frustration at the King in a new way.
A/N: written over at KMM, de-anoned and posted to my Jounral, am trying to be organised and keep all my fic in one place.
‘Finally’ thought Bethane, as he appeared in the centre of Camelot’s great feasting hall to be met with the surprised shouts of Camelot’s Prince and King. ‘Finally my time has come’. He lifted his hand toward the head table, his target the King; the words were on the tip of his tongue…
A large flash of golden light and the hall stilled, guards with swords half out of their belts, The King in an uncomfortable pose, half out of his chair, and the Prince already striding confidently forward, all froze in time. Bethane looked around in shock, he hadn’t done that (or if he did it was entirely unintentional, and impressive, maybe he was stronger than he thought. He would have to tell his master about this one, he would be proud, maybe he would be allowed that pet griffon he asked for). The sorcerer’s smug smile fell off his face when he turned to find himself nose to nose with a pale, slim man, with fire in his eyes. Bethane stumbled a few steps back in surprise, the mystery man didn’t budge, just stood, arms crossed over his chest, staring at him with his golden stare.
Just when Bethane was about to stammer some sort of coherent question the young man threw his arms up in exasperation, “Seriously!?” the boy yelled. Bethane wasn’t sure whether that was a question or a statement, either way it didn’t really make sense. He opened his mouth to make that point when the boy continued. “Seriously? Another assassination attempt? Don’t you have anything better to do with your time than to waste mine?”
Bethane scowled at this boy, and drew himself to full height. “Uther has killed-“
“Yes Uther has killed many people,” the boy interrupted, “He killed my wife, he killed my father, he killed my neighbours third cousin once removed, blah blah blah! I hear the same speech every damn week.” On the last word Bethane felt power like a punch hit his chest, shoving him back a few steps, causing him to trip on his long cloak and fall on his arse to the floor. The boy in front noticed and took a calming breath. “Sorry.” He whispered. “Just… Isn’t this kind of proving Uther right?” Eyes, now returned to a piercing blue, locked with Bethane’s. Seeing Bethane’s confusion the boy continued, “He thinks Magic is evil.” He explained slowly as if talking to a child, “so he kills magic users, then magic users try to kill him because he killed magic users, so he thinks Magic is evil. It’s just circle that goes round and round and it never. Bloody. Ends!” The boy ran his hands through his short black hair muttering to himself about ‘idiotic sorcerer's’ and ‘stubborn kings’ and how he ‘would really like to get a full night’s sleep once in a while’.
“Look, I will let you go this time. Because I am tired and cranky and just want to go home to bed. I can’t be bothered to deal with you. So I want you to remember that I have spared you and I want you to go home and think about what you have done.”
“Who are you?” Bethane whispered, still sat on the floor.
“You can call me Emrys.” Emyrs. The name flittered through Bethane conscious, the Emrys? But he was nothing more than a boy.
“Go.” The boy waved at Bethane, when Bethane didn’t manage to move the warlock spoke again. “Shew!” he hissed. Tripping over his cloak in his haste to get up Bethane raised to standing. With a hasty murmur of words he disappeared in a whirl of wind leaving the pale boy stood at the centre of the hall. The boy, with his hands on his hips, shook his head in exasperation and disappeared back into the crowd
A moment later time restarted, the King and the Prince stumbling slightly then blinking in shock.
“The sorcerer!” Bellowed the King, “Where did he go?”
“I am not sure my lord.” Answered the prince, a bewildered look on his face as his turned on the spot searching for where the man could have disappeared to in the blink of an eye.
“Call the knights!” the King ordered, face screwing with rage. “I want this magic user on the pyre by sun up tomorrow!”
In the dark corner of the hall a pair of blue eyes rolled in their sockets before dutifully following after his prince.
*
“You met Emrys!”
“What was he like?”
“Was he tall?”
“Was he handsome?”
“Did he have a tail?” The council of the Elders all turned to stare incredulously and Aladon who shrugged, “What, I heard it was true?” They all dismissed him with a shake of their heads and turned back to Bethane who was giving his report.
“How did you escape?” enquired Jacob, their leader, “How did you defeat him?”
“I didn’t! He just let me go!”
“He let you go?” they bellowed in unison.
“Yes, he told me to go away and think about what I had done.”
“What did he say?”
“He said not to try to Kill Uther any more.”
“Not kill Uther? But how else are we supposed to bring magic back to Camelot?”
“Kill Arthur?”
“Kill Morgana?”
“Capture Camelot?”
“No… Listen, I have a plan….”
*
Prince Arthur was awoken unceremoniously by an erratic Knight charging into his chambers. “Sire! Sire!” The Knight called; eyes wide like saucers.
“What?” the Prince grumbled into his pillow.
“We are under attack!” That got the prince jumping out of bed; he grabbed his sword and ran to the armoury.
*
Prince Arthur came to stand next to his father up on the battlements of Camelot staring at the strange sight in front of them.
“What is the meaning of this?” spat Uther, gesturing to the scene.
“Apparently it is called a Sit-In sire.” Arthur looked out beyond the walls of Camelot castle. Completely surrounding the castle proper were groups upon groups of men, women and children, sitting.
“A sit-in?” Uther bellowed. “What in god’s name is a sit in?”
“Well... exactly as it sounds my lord. They… sit”
“They Sit?!?”
“Yes sire.”
“And why are they… sitting?”
“They are apparently staging, and I quote, ‘A protest against the unlawful killing of magic users in Camelot’.”
“They’re Sorcerers?” Uther spat.
“I believe they are father.”
“Well that settles it; they must be removed at once. Use whatever force is necessary to remove this evil from our lands.”
The prince hesitated, looking over the fields to watch the children playing, the men laughing joyfully and the women braiding each other’s hair “They don’t look very evil father.”
“That is all part of their plan Arthur, don’t let them fool you. Ready your knights.”
“As you wish father.”
*
Later that night King Uther had sequestered himself in his throne room, secure in the knowledge that his son and his knights were disposing of the menaces of his Kingdom as he spoke. No sooner had he finished the thought when the heavy wooden doors swung open to reveal a very confused looking crown prince.
“Arthur. Is it taken care of?”
“Not quite father.”
“What do you mean, not quite? Are they still there?”
“Yes my Lord.”
“How can this be Arthur, you and your Knights are the finest fighters in the land and they are just… sitting.”
“Well sire, as soon as we advanced on them our swords were bewitched.”
“Bewitched? What did they do? Did your swords turn on you, did they burn hot? Did they explode into tiny pieces intended to blind even the most daring of fighter?”
“Not exactly father.” Uther waited as the Prince pulled something from the back of his sword belt. It was a flower, a long lily. Both father and son watch the flower in confusion.
“Send in the Archers then!” Uther ordered once he had regained his voice.
“We tried that sire.” Arthur pulled a skinny daisy from his belt pouch. Uther stared at it with a frown both shaking his head.
“Well… Try again Arthur. They will soon reveal their evil master plan and we will not be caught unawares.” The Prince let out an exasperated sigh.
“Of Course sire.”
*
Three weeks later and Camelot castle had never looked so wonderful. Flower garlands hung from all of the stair cases and banisters. The women skipped through the market place wearing their own crowns of daisies and the children weaved long chains from the stems. Everyone in Camelot was happy. Except for one King.
“How can this be happening Arthur! I will not have my city overrun by Sorcerers!”
“They do not seem to pose any threat father.”
“Ah that’s what they want you to think! No… Send another volley of arrows down into them, show them who’s in charge.”
“I cannot sire.”
“You cannot?”
“I am afraid that we have run out of arrows sire.”
“What?”
“We are out of arrow sire.”
“Well find something; throw rocks at them if you have to. Just get them away from my castle!”
*
Two months after the beginning of the magical sit in and Camelot citizens could not remember a time when the castle had been this joyous. Now to accompany the flower garlands they had small glittering crystals that illuminated at night. Children from the castle went outside and played games with the druid children, the sick from the castle were taken to the walls for healing and …..
“This isn’t working.” Hissed Drada one night out on the fields.
“I know, the king isn’t budging.”
“We need something more, something that will remind him that we are here.”
“I have an idea…”
*
King Uther was enjoying a wonderful dream that involved fire, a sorcerer and his crown when an annoying sound roused him. At first he couldn’t pinpoint what is was or where it was coming from. He sat up slowly in bed realising that it was coming from outside his bedroom window. Once he opened the pane the sound was clear across the city.
“Kumbaya my lord, Kumbaya. Kumbaya my lord, Kumbaya…”
“Guards!” the King bellowed. Immediately two men in armour stumbled into his chambers, swords drawn ready. “Fetch my son.”
*
“They’re singing.” King Uther stated, sitting ass regal as he could upon his throne in his night breeches and shirt.
“Yes father.” Mumbled the Prince, still half asleep, fisting his eyes as he stifled a yawn.
“Well…” Uther led, gesturing to the Prince.
“Well what my lord.”
“Stop them!”
“How can I stop them from singing?”
“Argh!” cried the King and he stormed off to his bed chambers to sleep, the sound of Kumbaya vibrating incecently through the castle.
*
Five days of no sleep later and the King snapped. “Arthur, make them go away. Tell them they can have anything, they can take the crown, they can have their own lands in the south, They can take the bloody cloak from my back, just stop them from singing that infuriating song!”
“Of course Father.”
*
And that is how flower power and Kumbaya brought Magic back to Camelot.