Tales of the Gibbet III (part three)
Title: Tales of The Gibbet III (part three)
Word Count: 2463
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Owned by Shine and BBC; please don’t sue me, I’m only playing!
Warnings/spoilers: language
Summary: Merlin thwarts an assassination attempt and stumbles across espionage (and loses The Gibbet!)
The previous episode of The Gibbet series can be found here: http://welshinnit.livejournal.com/2013/03/21/
Part one: http://welshinnit.livejournal.com/27469.html
Part Two: http://welshinnit.livejournal.com/2013/11/02/
3.
Merlin restrained himself from leaping across the room to bury his dagger, Flight, into Will's smirking face. The overseer of Cerone wiped some of Arthur's cum from his lips with the back of his hand as the master thief of Dishwater District flicked a glance at Blondie; His Cuteness slightly groaned while he lay prone on the bare floorboards, completely naked and with his eyes closed.
"Will," Merlin finally said after he had gulped twice against a dry throat. "Gone assassin now? The guilds won't like that."
His Smirkness casually leant against one of the open window shutters and picked up his own slim, grey bladed dagger. The naked Overseer of Cerone scratched his chin thoughtfully with the weapon. "Just a one off job. Thought I'd have some fun while I'm at it though. Your Arthur is fucking hot, though a bit dumb; he actually thought I wanted to talk about you and how I just want to be friends." Wills rolled his eyes. "What an idiot. Nice tasting cum though."
Merlin narrowed his eyes and took a step closer. "I'm going to gut you like a fish, slowly," he said through gritted teeth.
The smirk was replaced by a snarl. "So it's come to this, lover. Well, I'll be choosing the moment." With that said, Will jumped through the window. Merlin rushed to the sill and looked down to see his fellow master thief roll off a cart of hay and run into the shadows. The innkeeper had the urge to pursue the bastard, but a moan from Arthur stopped him.
"I'm here, don't worry," Merlin said as he sheathed his blades and cradled His Blondness' head in his lap. A quick scan of the frugal room informed him that there was no vial of an antidote around and he cursed his luck that Will was an amature at assassination. He then remembered Betuna's words about a beach and he stood. "Hope you're not too heavy Arthur."
After Moonblade was strapped across his back, Merlin took in a deep breath and went to sling the blond over one shoulder; he grunted and staggered a bit but was glad all those years in the gymnasium paid off. Usually to their cost, foes underestimated the thief's wiry strength. A winning smile and a small wave of the hand was enough for the washerwoman and her slave girls to shrug their own shoulders and go back to work and, following in the footsteps of Will from moments before, Merlin carried his heavy load through the shadowed parts of the market place to the side road that hugged the sluggish, moon-rippled river.
A hooded, shadowed form barred his way when he was half-way to the bridge that crossed over to Docklands. A thin, man high black rod was in one hand and Merlin recognised the figure. "Mordred!" he spat, "You're the one conspiring with Will and the Indiran Empire to get Arthur killed."
With an impatient sigh, the man lowered the hood and even in the moonlight the innkeeper was reminded how beautiful Arthur's half-brother was; beautiful and deadly, like nightshade. "And to think I once wanted your cute face sucking on my noble cock. This is what comes of fantasising about slumming it. Of course I want my brother out of the way, but not like this. And what is this about the Empire? Accusing me of being a traitor is not wise, innkeeper." Mordred flicked a glance at Merlin load and an eyebrow rose. "What has Arthur got himself into this time I wonder? I'll go about my magewatch rounds and, if he survives, I'll see him anon. You I want to definitely survive for I trust what's beneath that chiton is something worth waiting for."
Great. Mordred had the hots for him? Thanks Pan.
"Help me, please?"
With a bemused chuckle, Mordred walked passed the thief. Merlin shuddered as the black robes gracefully scraped his thigh; the magewatch had that effect on most people. Thankfully their power was in cancelling spells with a glance (so the rumour went) and not de-magiking enchanted items, so his daggers were safe. With a muttered curse (concerning Hecate's tits) Merlin shifted the weight and carefully strode further along the path until he got to Cerone Avenue. He was tempted to go into his mother's house, but his instincts told him to go further on and reach the beach; it was obvious Betty was some kind of seer and, he hoped, knew what she was doing.
The master forger was at the sea's edge with a small rowboat next to her. She gave a small gasp at seeing her brother and helped Merlin load him into the craft. "Morgana?"
Even in the shadows Merlin could see her look of genuine frustration and concern. "I can't come with you, but I have seen a cave and you are both in it. Also, beware of rats, a thin man and...maybe...red cloaks?"
The cave, Merlin guessed, was the one he and another Arthur had discovered some months ago #, but the rest? He voiced his doubts.
"This power isn't exactly exact, Merlin."
"Just be careful. I saw your magewatch brother lurking about."
The famous Draconis eyebrow arched. "I'm not that versed in City law, but I believe soothsayers and the like are exempt from the ban on magic. You would to if you had half a brain." She shushed his next words with a hiss of exasperation. "Go to your cave and quickly. I've sent Leon with what I know to Phrat. Our district healer is still at The Guildhouse tending to Staffwielder Tarrion and he'll know what to do."
Merlin grinned and gave his thanks before he jumped into the boat and grabbed the oars. "Look after yourself," he said as she gave a final push to free him from the sandy beach.
"You to Merlin, and remember what I've said." She waited for a few moments as he forced himself to use what was left of his bicep power on the oars to widen the distance between them. Then she turned and walked to Mistress Hunith's house.
Merlin blessed Betty (in the name of Hermes) when he found bedrolls, smoked herring, a flask of water and an oil lamp tied up in a thick grey waxed (and therefore waterproofed) cloak in the bottom of the rowing boat. At the foot of the stairs that led up to the sewers and the secret door in The Gibbet's cellar lay Arthur wrapped cosily in the cloak and on a bed of coarse linen. The innkeeper had the warrior's sweat-soaked head in his lap.
"Wake up Arthur, please?" Where was Leon and Phrat?
Blondie's eyes fluttered open and his whole body trembled. "Hey there."
Merlin smiled. "Hey."
"Am I still dreaming? It's getting so dark, I can barely see you." Again his body produced ripples and tremors and a frown of pain appeared on that beautiful, noble brow. "It hurts, Merlin, it hurts everywhere. And I'm tired, so very tired..." The blond lashes fluttered and the lids closed once more.
"Wake up Arthur. Stay with me. No sleeping." Merlin slapped his face, not too gently in his panic. "You stay awake for me you blond, gorgeous, hot, sweet, stupid, naïve, annoying, did I mention hot, bastard!"
The eyes opened half way and silent tears dripped from them; silent because, Merlin knew, the trooper refused to worry the innkeeper about the pain he was enduring. "I hear him Merlin and I want to say this last thing. Charon calls and I just want to say...I love you."
The body went limp.
Merlin's vision blurred and he gently rocked his Arthur to and fro. A cry that started deep within him bubbled up and burst from his lips. It was full of hurt and anger and love. He cursed the gods of luck of/and trickery for their perverse humour. After some brief moments Merlin calmed himself and caressed the damp darkened bangs from Arthur's forehead. "I love you and I'm sorry. Sorry for being such a dick and to cause you so much hurt. I didn't...don't deserve your love and I wish I could...I mean I want to make it up to you. I...I..." The pain Merlin felt seemed to engulf him but he forced the last words out, needed to hear it in his own ears even though the body in his arms could not. "I love you."
"Merlin? Master Merlin of The Gibbet?"
The master thief snapped his head up and through his smudged vision he saw a warrior dressed in dark red leathers holding a great sword that shone in a pale blue light. The stranger was of dark skin (like a warrior of the Indiran Empire, though Merlin knew many peoples of different colours came under its sway but here was what he thought an Empire soldier would look like) with collar length black hair, clean of limb and handsome of face. Merlin flicked Flight in his direction and the dagger hovered menacingly in front of the stranger's face. The man ignored the peril and immediately side-stepped to crouch next to Arthur.
"Don't fuck with me. I'm not in the mood." Flight was now up against the warrior's throat and just pierced the first few layers of skin.
The man gulped. "I am sent by one who you know as Phrat. He still tends the Staffwielder at The Guildhouse. Merlin, even though Arthur has departed, I can bring him back."
Flight flew back into the thief's hand and hope dared to kindle anew in his heart. "If you are a battle mage, any magics you have please use them. I don't give a fuck what the magewatch says."
The smile showed perfect white teeth. "The sword Emirel will call his noble soul back to us, I am sure of it. We still have time."
Merlin bit his lower lip nervously as the stranger laid the great sword over Arthur's body, the hilt and the large emerald that was its pommel stone touching his lips. "Apollo, I entreat you to bring back your own," the handsome man whispered.
Arthur gasped as if he resurfaced from deep waters and looked up into Merlin's face. "I see your face, my love," and then he closed his eyes. The gentle rise and fall of his chest was the greatest sight the innkeeper had seen in a long time.
"Thank you, whoever you are. Thank you."
The man took in a deep breath and Merlin saw that he was greatly fatigued. "None are needed, for it is my duty. Know that I am Lance of the Lake, Guild Elite Trooper of the Temple District and Paladin of the Order of the White Rose."
Great, a fanatical follower of some obscure cult. Still, Arthur lived.
The master thief stood and took in a deep breath to steady him self. He had things to do. "I've got things to do," he said, not bothering to see if Lance had heard him or not as he started to take the weathered stone steps.
"I will guard Arthur until he is well enough to walk, but where will you be? Of this I am sure he will want to know upon waking."
Merlin stopped and turned. What was he going to do? He took his time as he gathered his thoughts and the trooper waited patiently. Finally, and after taking another deep breath, the overseer answered. "I've got a bunch of wererats to tackle, prove my innocence concerning the attack on Guildmaster Tarrion, get my inn back, make sure the Dishwater Wolves are safe, find out who is behind the attack on the city's magi, for now avoid a certain knob cheese scum sucking prat named Will, look out for anyone with a red cloak (also a thin man), and visit my mother. Not necessary in that order."
Again the broad smile. "You are a much accomplished man, Merlin, and I doubt not that you will succeed in your endeavours. Know that I came across a nest of wererats in the sewers under the magistrate's courthouse. Out of the seventeen I encountered, two escaped I know not where. Know also that Staffwielder Tarrion himself speaks on your behalf in The Guildhouse and he is most persuasive; your innocence and inn will be restored. I wish I could go with you, but I fear my place is here for now."
Merlin allowed him self a small smile. At least his luck was turning. "Look after Arthur. When he's well enough if you could use the boat to take him back to the city?" Lance nodded once. Merlin would have suggested the secret door to the inn, but the master thief's instincts told him that having two GETs know of that would not be wise. With a nod of his own, he turned back to the steps and took then two at a time.
He found the place under the courthouse that Lance had mentioned easily enough (in a part of the district's sewers untouched by the tides), but is was empty of any ratmen. He scoured the area (a large alcove away from the running stream of faeces and urine) but only found a few rusty daggers, shards of pottery, human bones gnawed white and discarded pieces of twine. Merlin was about to leave the area when he suddenly decided to leave a gift for any surviving wererats. Using the twine, daggers and pottery shards, he set up a complicated web of traps; it might not do much damage, but he always needed the practice in that field of his profession.
Satisfied with his parting gift, he climbed the wooden ladder up to street level (around the back of Uther's office) and, with Mute in one hand, shifted aside the iron grate. It was roughly a few moments before dawn so he easily scampered up the side of the courthouse and rested on its flat roof.
A few bats were fluttering their way back to wherever their haunt was as he brooded awhile. What was he going to do now? As the stars faded and pink stained the eastern horizon, he thought he saw a few white sails far out to sea.
"Perhaps being a fisherman would be an easier job," he muttered to himself, confident that he could not be heard.
A low, growl of a whisper sounded in his head. "By my reckoning, master thief, those sails are not of simple fisher folk." Mute rarely, if ever, spoke to him and Merlin shivered. He looked again out towards the sea and saw that the few sails were joined by more, much more. It was an armada, an Indiran one.
The shit had definitely hit the side of a barn.
# from a short read here: http://welshinnit.livejournal.com/2012/10/18/
Word Count: 2463
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Owned by Shine and BBC; please don’t sue me, I’m only playing!
Warnings/spoilers: language
Summary: Merlin thwarts an assassination attempt and stumbles across espionage (and loses The Gibbet!)
The previous episode of The Gibbet series can be found here: http://welshinnit.livejournal.com/2013/03/21/
Part one: http://welshinnit.livejournal.com/27469.html
Part Two: http://welshinnit.livejournal.com/2013/11/02/
3.
Merlin restrained himself from leaping across the room to bury his dagger, Flight, into Will's smirking face. The overseer of Cerone wiped some of Arthur's cum from his lips with the back of his hand as the master thief of Dishwater District flicked a glance at Blondie; His Cuteness slightly groaned while he lay prone on the bare floorboards, completely naked and with his eyes closed.
"Will," Merlin finally said after he had gulped twice against a dry throat. "Gone assassin now? The guilds won't like that."
His Smirkness casually leant against one of the open window shutters and picked up his own slim, grey bladed dagger. The naked Overseer of Cerone scratched his chin thoughtfully with the weapon. "Just a one off job. Thought I'd have some fun while I'm at it though. Your Arthur is fucking hot, though a bit dumb; he actually thought I wanted to talk about you and how I just want to be friends." Wills rolled his eyes. "What an idiot. Nice tasting cum though."
Merlin narrowed his eyes and took a step closer. "I'm going to gut you like a fish, slowly," he said through gritted teeth.
The smirk was replaced by a snarl. "So it's come to this, lover. Well, I'll be choosing the moment." With that said, Will jumped through the window. Merlin rushed to the sill and looked down to see his fellow master thief roll off a cart of hay and run into the shadows. The innkeeper had the urge to pursue the bastard, but a moan from Arthur stopped him.
"I'm here, don't worry," Merlin said as he sheathed his blades and cradled His Blondness' head in his lap. A quick scan of the frugal room informed him that there was no vial of an antidote around and he cursed his luck that Will was an amature at assassination. He then remembered Betuna's words about a beach and he stood. "Hope you're not too heavy Arthur."
After Moonblade was strapped across his back, Merlin took in a deep breath and went to sling the blond over one shoulder; he grunted and staggered a bit but was glad all those years in the gymnasium paid off. Usually to their cost, foes underestimated the thief's wiry strength. A winning smile and a small wave of the hand was enough for the washerwoman and her slave girls to shrug their own shoulders and go back to work and, following in the footsteps of Will from moments before, Merlin carried his heavy load through the shadowed parts of the market place to the side road that hugged the sluggish, moon-rippled river.
A hooded, shadowed form barred his way when he was half-way to the bridge that crossed over to Docklands. A thin, man high black rod was in one hand and Merlin recognised the figure. "Mordred!" he spat, "You're the one conspiring with Will and the Indiran Empire to get Arthur killed."
With an impatient sigh, the man lowered the hood and even in the moonlight the innkeeper was reminded how beautiful Arthur's half-brother was; beautiful and deadly, like nightshade. "And to think I once wanted your cute face sucking on my noble cock. This is what comes of fantasising about slumming it. Of course I want my brother out of the way, but not like this. And what is this about the Empire? Accusing me of being a traitor is not wise, innkeeper." Mordred flicked a glance at Merlin load and an eyebrow rose. "What has Arthur got himself into this time I wonder? I'll go about my magewatch rounds and, if he survives, I'll see him anon. You I want to definitely survive for I trust what's beneath that chiton is something worth waiting for."
Great. Mordred had the hots for him? Thanks Pan.
"Help me, please?"
With a bemused chuckle, Mordred walked passed the thief. Merlin shuddered as the black robes gracefully scraped his thigh; the magewatch had that effect on most people. Thankfully their power was in cancelling spells with a glance (so the rumour went) and not de-magiking enchanted items, so his daggers were safe. With a muttered curse (concerning Hecate's tits) Merlin shifted the weight and carefully strode further along the path until he got to Cerone Avenue. He was tempted to go into his mother's house, but his instincts told him to go further on and reach the beach; it was obvious Betty was some kind of seer and, he hoped, knew what she was doing.
The master forger was at the sea's edge with a small rowboat next to her. She gave a small gasp at seeing her brother and helped Merlin load him into the craft. "Morgana?"
Even in the shadows Merlin could see her look of genuine frustration and concern. "I can't come with you, but I have seen a cave and you are both in it. Also, beware of rats, a thin man and...maybe...red cloaks?"
The cave, Merlin guessed, was the one he and another Arthur had discovered some months ago #, but the rest? He voiced his doubts.
"This power isn't exactly exact, Merlin."
"Just be careful. I saw your magewatch brother lurking about."
The famous Draconis eyebrow arched. "I'm not that versed in City law, but I believe soothsayers and the like are exempt from the ban on magic. You would to if you had half a brain." She shushed his next words with a hiss of exasperation. "Go to your cave and quickly. I've sent Leon with what I know to Phrat. Our district healer is still at The Guildhouse tending to Staffwielder Tarrion and he'll know what to do."
Merlin grinned and gave his thanks before he jumped into the boat and grabbed the oars. "Look after yourself," he said as she gave a final push to free him from the sandy beach.
"You to Merlin, and remember what I've said." She waited for a few moments as he forced himself to use what was left of his bicep power on the oars to widen the distance between them. Then she turned and walked to Mistress Hunith's house.
Merlin blessed Betty (in the name of Hermes) when he found bedrolls, smoked herring, a flask of water and an oil lamp tied up in a thick grey waxed (and therefore waterproofed) cloak in the bottom of the rowing boat. At the foot of the stairs that led up to the sewers and the secret door in The Gibbet's cellar lay Arthur wrapped cosily in the cloak and on a bed of coarse linen. The innkeeper had the warrior's sweat-soaked head in his lap.
"Wake up Arthur, please?" Where was Leon and Phrat?
Blondie's eyes fluttered open and his whole body trembled. "Hey there."
Merlin smiled. "Hey."
"Am I still dreaming? It's getting so dark, I can barely see you." Again his body produced ripples and tremors and a frown of pain appeared on that beautiful, noble brow. "It hurts, Merlin, it hurts everywhere. And I'm tired, so very tired..." The blond lashes fluttered and the lids closed once more.
"Wake up Arthur. Stay with me. No sleeping." Merlin slapped his face, not too gently in his panic. "You stay awake for me you blond, gorgeous, hot, sweet, stupid, naïve, annoying, did I mention hot, bastard!"
The eyes opened half way and silent tears dripped from them; silent because, Merlin knew, the trooper refused to worry the innkeeper about the pain he was enduring. "I hear him Merlin and I want to say this last thing. Charon calls and I just want to say...I love you."
The body went limp.
Merlin's vision blurred and he gently rocked his Arthur to and fro. A cry that started deep within him bubbled up and burst from his lips. It was full of hurt and anger and love. He cursed the gods of luck of/and trickery for their perverse humour. After some brief moments Merlin calmed himself and caressed the damp darkened bangs from Arthur's forehead. "I love you and I'm sorry. Sorry for being such a dick and to cause you so much hurt. I didn't...don't deserve your love and I wish I could...I mean I want to make it up to you. I...I..." The pain Merlin felt seemed to engulf him but he forced the last words out, needed to hear it in his own ears even though the body in his arms could not. "I love you."
"Merlin? Master Merlin of The Gibbet?"
The master thief snapped his head up and through his smudged vision he saw a warrior dressed in dark red leathers holding a great sword that shone in a pale blue light. The stranger was of dark skin (like a warrior of the Indiran Empire, though Merlin knew many peoples of different colours came under its sway but here was what he thought an Empire soldier would look like) with collar length black hair, clean of limb and handsome of face. Merlin flicked Flight in his direction and the dagger hovered menacingly in front of the stranger's face. The man ignored the peril and immediately side-stepped to crouch next to Arthur.
"Don't fuck with me. I'm not in the mood." Flight was now up against the warrior's throat and just pierced the first few layers of skin.
The man gulped. "I am sent by one who you know as Phrat. He still tends the Staffwielder at The Guildhouse. Merlin, even though Arthur has departed, I can bring him back."
Flight flew back into the thief's hand and hope dared to kindle anew in his heart. "If you are a battle mage, any magics you have please use them. I don't give a fuck what the magewatch says."
The smile showed perfect white teeth. "The sword Emirel will call his noble soul back to us, I am sure of it. We still have time."
Merlin bit his lower lip nervously as the stranger laid the great sword over Arthur's body, the hilt and the large emerald that was its pommel stone touching his lips. "Apollo, I entreat you to bring back your own," the handsome man whispered.
Arthur gasped as if he resurfaced from deep waters and looked up into Merlin's face. "I see your face, my love," and then he closed his eyes. The gentle rise and fall of his chest was the greatest sight the innkeeper had seen in a long time.
"Thank you, whoever you are. Thank you."
The man took in a deep breath and Merlin saw that he was greatly fatigued. "None are needed, for it is my duty. Know that I am Lance of the Lake, Guild Elite Trooper of the Temple District and Paladin of the Order of the White Rose."
Great, a fanatical follower of some obscure cult. Still, Arthur lived.
The master thief stood and took in a deep breath to steady him self. He had things to do. "I've got things to do," he said, not bothering to see if Lance had heard him or not as he started to take the weathered stone steps.
"I will guard Arthur until he is well enough to walk, but where will you be? Of this I am sure he will want to know upon waking."
Merlin stopped and turned. What was he going to do? He took his time as he gathered his thoughts and the trooper waited patiently. Finally, and after taking another deep breath, the overseer answered. "I've got a bunch of wererats to tackle, prove my innocence concerning the attack on Guildmaster Tarrion, get my inn back, make sure the Dishwater Wolves are safe, find out who is behind the attack on the city's magi, for now avoid a certain knob cheese scum sucking prat named Will, look out for anyone with a red cloak (also a thin man), and visit my mother. Not necessary in that order."
Again the broad smile. "You are a much accomplished man, Merlin, and I doubt not that you will succeed in your endeavours. Know that I came across a nest of wererats in the sewers under the magistrate's courthouse. Out of the seventeen I encountered, two escaped I know not where. Know also that Staffwielder Tarrion himself speaks on your behalf in The Guildhouse and he is most persuasive; your innocence and inn will be restored. I wish I could go with you, but I fear my place is here for now."
Merlin allowed him self a small smile. At least his luck was turning. "Look after Arthur. When he's well enough if you could use the boat to take him back to the city?" Lance nodded once. Merlin would have suggested the secret door to the inn, but the master thief's instincts told him that having two GETs know of that would not be wise. With a nod of his own, he turned back to the steps and took then two at a time.
He found the place under the courthouse that Lance had mentioned easily enough (in a part of the district's sewers untouched by the tides), but is was empty of any ratmen. He scoured the area (a large alcove away from the running stream of faeces and urine) but only found a few rusty daggers, shards of pottery, human bones gnawed white and discarded pieces of twine. Merlin was about to leave the area when he suddenly decided to leave a gift for any surviving wererats. Using the twine, daggers and pottery shards, he set up a complicated web of traps; it might not do much damage, but he always needed the practice in that field of his profession.
Satisfied with his parting gift, he climbed the wooden ladder up to street level (around the back of Uther's office) and, with Mute in one hand, shifted aside the iron grate. It was roughly a few moments before dawn so he easily scampered up the side of the courthouse and rested on its flat roof.
A few bats were fluttering their way back to wherever their haunt was as he brooded awhile. What was he going to do now? As the stars faded and pink stained the eastern horizon, he thought he saw a few white sails far out to sea.
"Perhaps being a fisherman would be an easier job," he muttered to himself, confident that he could not be heard.
A low, growl of a whisper sounded in his head. "By my reckoning, master thief, those sails are not of simple fisher folk." Mute rarely, if ever, spoke to him and Merlin shivered. He looked again out towards the sea and saw that the few sails were joined by more, much more. It was an armada, an Indiran one.
The shit had definitely hit the side of a barn.
# from a short read here: http://welshinnit.livejournal.com/2012/10/18/