BBC's Merlin Goes Steampunk [1/1]
So, you know all those SPN and RPF fics I promised? Well, I wrote this instead. Ladies and Gentlemen, the world premier of Bad_Peppermint delving into other fandoms:
Fic title: Like Clockwork
Pairings: Gen. Maybe pre-Merlin/Arthur if you squint really hard.
Characters: Merlin, Arthur, OFC
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Everything belongs to the Olympus of entertainment, BBC.
Word count: 900ish
Warnings/Notes: AU. Inspired by this pic.
Summary: Steampunk!Merlin and Arthur go on an unspecified adventure.
“Emrys!” Arthur bellowed. He drew back the curtains of the hotel room window and peered out into the street. Several stories below him, men in finely tailored tailcoats and top hats and women in swishy dresses meandered along, accompanied by bodyguards with their enormous guns resting quite unsubtly at their sides. There was a man selling monocles from a vendor’s tray and the occasional ragged group of children weaving through the crowd.
The only thing that was missing was Arthur’s blasted valet.
Tapping his polished boot - that much, Merlin had managed, at least - Arthur fished his watch out of his waistcoat and flipped it open. Oh yes, Father was going to have Arthur’s hide. They were already overdue; if they had any trouble on the way to the station - which, considering the reliability of automobiles, was not so unlikely - the steam engine would leave without them, and then Merlin would die a slow, horrifying death.
Arthur was quite looking forward to it.
+++
The valet that Arthur was so desperately missing was currently in a bit of a bind in the hotel’s reception area some four stories below, where, when he had gone to pick up Arthur’s good shoes from the cleaners, he had somehow gotten himself cornered by a most threatening enemy. He was not even sure how exactly their conversation had started. He only knew that her boots laced up to her knees and that her corset made her - quite pronounced - bosom rather hard to ignore. There was a perky little hat on top of her mane of hair, veil drawn to the side and goggles askew. Merlin would most certainly have been attracted, but she was just a little too interested in the gizmo he had agreed to show her.
It was unfortunate, really, that Merlin had forgotten to add cogs or a wind-up key to this one when he had brought it to life with a flash of gold. He was usually more careful about these things, but he had merely been playing around at the time and had not thought to add an actual mechanism before he let it slide into his pocket. Now it chirped and chattered away on the table in front of them and Merlin wished there was a way to undo this entire encounter. Not that the girl had any such worries, of course.
“Ooh, that is fascinating!” she said, reaching out hesitant fingers but drawing it back before the tips ever touched the cool metal. “Does it run on clockwork?”
“Something like that,” Merlin hedged and glanced over his shoulder. Where was that prat when you needed him?
“You must be quite the inventor, then,” she said, looking away from the toy and focusing all her damnable attention on Merlin instead. He swallowed when she leaned against the table’s edge and wriggled her hips a little.
“I suppose I have some talent,” Merlin murmured.
“Really?” She smiled. “Maybe you would like to demonstrate it for me sometime?”
And that was when Merlin caught sight of the clock on the wall.
“Oh, I am dead,” he sputtered. He turned to the bewildered-looking young lady and waved the shoes he was still holding in her face. “Look, Miss, that sounds absolutely fantastic, but we were supposed to leave ages ago and Arthur is going to tear me apart and I really have to go.”
He threw her a dazzling smile and dashed away before she could say another word, remembering to double back for the toy.
+++
He burst into the room just in time to see Arthur redoing his cravat, a sure sign that he was unhappy.
“Emrys,” he said, his eyes promising fiery doom, “How good of you to join me.”
“Terribly sorry, sir,” Merlin puffed. He was a little surprised to find that he actually meant it. But then again, he had had enough contact with the senior Mister Pendragon to know that news of a delayed departure from the city would not be graciously received. Of course, if Arthur suffered, Merlin inevitably suffered as well, so maybe it was less compassion that colored Merlin’s tone and more self-preservation.
“Yes, yes,” Arthur waved him off. He snapped his fingers and Merlin fetched him the coat draped over the foot of the bed, holding it for him to slide into.
“You know,” Arthur said in that conversational tone that Merlin had begun to hate, twisting his arm into a sleeve, “valets as unreliable and incompetent as you are usually sacked.”
“You cannot sack me,” Merlin reminded him. It was true, and they both knew it; Uther had hired Merlin and he was going to be the one to fire Merlin. Arthur maybe had all the responsibility of a highborn, but that did not mean that he also had all the privileges.
Arthur tightened his mouth.
“I will think of suitable punishment for you, Emrys,” he warned.
“Like that ridiculous coat you made me wear the last time?” Merlin wanted to know, smoothing wrinkles out of the fabric covering Arthur’s shoulders. “Because that is not going to happen again, sir, just so you know.”
“We’ll see,” Arthur said, smiling his most charming smile. “I personally found the peacock feathers rather fetching.”
Merlin yanked the man’s coat straight a little harder than necessary.
“You, sir, are a prat,” he told him.
Arthur winked at him, inclining his head before placing his top hat firmly on top of it.
“Get the suitcases, Merlin,” he said, “We have a train to catch.”
Feedbackers will be adored.
Fic title: Like Clockwork
Pairings: Gen. Maybe pre-Merlin/Arthur if you squint really hard.
Characters: Merlin, Arthur, OFC
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Everything belongs to the Olympus of entertainment, BBC.
Word count: 900ish
Warnings/Notes: AU. Inspired by this pic.
Summary: Steampunk!Merlin and Arthur go on an unspecified adventure.
“Emrys!” Arthur bellowed. He drew back the curtains of the hotel room window and peered out into the street. Several stories below him, men in finely tailored tailcoats and top hats and women in swishy dresses meandered along, accompanied by bodyguards with their enormous guns resting quite unsubtly at their sides. There was a man selling monocles from a vendor’s tray and the occasional ragged group of children weaving through the crowd.
The only thing that was missing was Arthur’s blasted valet.
Tapping his polished boot - that much, Merlin had managed, at least - Arthur fished his watch out of his waistcoat and flipped it open. Oh yes, Father was going to have Arthur’s hide. They were already overdue; if they had any trouble on the way to the station - which, considering the reliability of automobiles, was not so unlikely - the steam engine would leave without them, and then Merlin would die a slow, horrifying death.
Arthur was quite looking forward to it.
+++
The valet that Arthur was so desperately missing was currently in a bit of a bind in the hotel’s reception area some four stories below, where, when he had gone to pick up Arthur’s good shoes from the cleaners, he had somehow gotten himself cornered by a most threatening enemy. He was not even sure how exactly their conversation had started. He only knew that her boots laced up to her knees and that her corset made her - quite pronounced - bosom rather hard to ignore. There was a perky little hat on top of her mane of hair, veil drawn to the side and goggles askew. Merlin would most certainly have been attracted, but she was just a little too interested in the gizmo he had agreed to show her.
It was unfortunate, really, that Merlin had forgotten to add cogs or a wind-up key to this one when he had brought it to life with a flash of gold. He was usually more careful about these things, but he had merely been playing around at the time and had not thought to add an actual mechanism before he let it slide into his pocket. Now it chirped and chattered away on the table in front of them and Merlin wished there was a way to undo this entire encounter. Not that the girl had any such worries, of course.
“Ooh, that is fascinating!” she said, reaching out hesitant fingers but drawing it back before the tips ever touched the cool metal. “Does it run on clockwork?”
“Something like that,” Merlin hedged and glanced over his shoulder. Where was that prat when you needed him?
“You must be quite the inventor, then,” she said, looking away from the toy and focusing all her damnable attention on Merlin instead. He swallowed when she leaned against the table’s edge and wriggled her hips a little.
“I suppose I have some talent,” Merlin murmured.
“Really?” She smiled. “Maybe you would like to demonstrate it for me sometime?”
And that was when Merlin caught sight of the clock on the wall.
“Oh, I am dead,” he sputtered. He turned to the bewildered-looking young lady and waved the shoes he was still holding in her face. “Look, Miss, that sounds absolutely fantastic, but we were supposed to leave ages ago and Arthur is going to tear me apart and I really have to go.”
He threw her a dazzling smile and dashed away before she could say another word, remembering to double back for the toy.
+++
He burst into the room just in time to see Arthur redoing his cravat, a sure sign that he was unhappy.
“Emrys,” he said, his eyes promising fiery doom, “How good of you to join me.”
“Terribly sorry, sir,” Merlin puffed. He was a little surprised to find that he actually meant it. But then again, he had had enough contact with the senior Mister Pendragon to know that news of a delayed departure from the city would not be graciously received. Of course, if Arthur suffered, Merlin inevitably suffered as well, so maybe it was less compassion that colored Merlin’s tone and more self-preservation.
“Yes, yes,” Arthur waved him off. He snapped his fingers and Merlin fetched him the coat draped over the foot of the bed, holding it for him to slide into.
“You know,” Arthur said in that conversational tone that Merlin had begun to hate, twisting his arm into a sleeve, “valets as unreliable and incompetent as you are usually sacked.”
“You cannot sack me,” Merlin reminded him. It was true, and they both knew it; Uther had hired Merlin and he was going to be the one to fire Merlin. Arthur maybe had all the responsibility of a highborn, but that did not mean that he also had all the privileges.
Arthur tightened his mouth.
“I will think of suitable punishment for you, Emrys,” he warned.
“Like that ridiculous coat you made me wear the last time?” Merlin wanted to know, smoothing wrinkles out of the fabric covering Arthur’s shoulders. “Because that is not going to happen again, sir, just so you know.”
“We’ll see,” Arthur said, smiling his most charming smile. “I personally found the peacock feathers rather fetching.”
Merlin yanked the man’s coat straight a little harder than necessary.
“You, sir, are a prat,” he told him.
Arthur winked at him, inclining his head before placing his top hat firmly on top of it.
“Get the suitcases, Merlin,” he said, “We have a train to catch.”
Feedbackers will be adored.