Fic: Motivational (or Setting an Example), Arthur/Merlin (1/1)
Title: Motivational (or Setting an Example)
Pairing: Merlin/Arthur
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 1300
Warning/spoilers: spoilers for 2x01
Summary: Coda for "The Curse of Cornelius Sigan." Merlin talks to Cedric before he leaves.
Notes: Yeah, the episode bugged me, so I exorcised my demons with some fluffy fix-it fic. Also, if you know Star Trek TOS, you can play spot-the-reference! No beta, therefore all mistakes and accidental Americanisms are mine.
Merlin didn't envy the workers who would have to patch up the besieged walls of the castle, any more than he envied Gaius and the other volunteers who were still up and were likely to remain awake for many hours tending to the wounded. It had been hours since the siege, hours for Merlin to run favors for Gaius, to explain how he was miraculously freed from his cell by one of the magical statues blasting the door away, and to sit in a pitiful heap on the castle steps, looking miserably out over the mostly empty courtyard, piecing together the last few days.
In the stables, Arthur had ordered him to go home and think about whether he wanted to be Arthur's servant or not. The answer was, as everything else in his life was, complicated. He wanted nothing more than to tell Arthur to bugger off, do something dramatic like just leave Camelot, then spy on Arthur to see if he missed him or if he'd once again be charmed by anyone willing to save his stupid arse. But he had long passed that stage when he was eight and threatening to run away from home because his mum wouldn't let him use magic to clean the dishes and she told him to go ahead and leave. He had stayed outside the house for hours until nightfall, when his mother came out, gathered his shaking body into her warm arms, and told him to never threaten someone you care about like that unless you really are willing to leave. He wanted to stay. He needed to stay because of his destiny, but he wanted to stay because...well, because he was slowly realizing that Arthur himself meant too much to him. Yet Arthur clearly thought Merlin was an idiot, and he glumly recalled every instance in which Arthur did something for him, but they were always about settling debts or helping the weak.
Merlin buried his face in his hands and groaned. He was considered a helpless victim, just like any other citizen in Camelot. A bunch of moving targets for Arthur and his knights to protect, and it was just fitting that the official color of Camelot was red, like blood or a bulls-eye. Perhaps they could all wear red shirts and dresses so they could more easily be identified and picked off.
As he buried himself in these thoughts, a hurried figure in the courtyard drew him out of his reverie. It was still mostly dark out, the sun not yet having risen but putting enough light in the sky for Merlin to make out shapes with accuracy. The figure was saddling a horse, and Merlin had a suspicion on who it was. Curiosity propelled him toward the figure, and sure enough it was Cedric, trying for a third time to tighten the saddle so he could leave, hands shaking too much to be much use.
"It seems you're good with unsaddling a horse, but not so good with the reverse," Merlin said. Cedric jumped theatrically, arms stretched across the horse's side. When he recognized Merlin, he sheepishly turned around and went back to what he was doing, hands shaking even more.
"Yeah, sorry about all that," he said, not sounding sorry at all. Well, Merlin found that he couldn't be too upset about it, as Cedric definitely got what he inadvertently asked for in this case.
"No matter. You were, for a short time, a better servant than I," Merlin said, sarcastic. Any servant who took credit for another's act of heroism or only behaved properly so he could turn around and steal from Arthur later received no marks in Merlin's book.
Cedric looked smug. "That I was."
Merlin scowled, and he hoped that his eyes didn't flash gold. From what he had gleaned from Cedric after Sigan was pulled from his body, Cedric remembered nothing except consuming darkness and fear while he was possessed. He certainly didn't want to alert him to the fact that Merlin was magic after all that had occurred.
"It's just as well," Cedric continued, managing to tighten the saddle properly. "I couldn't have lasted a day longer. I hate doing chores, especially not for a high-maintenance prince."
Merlin smirked inwardly. "To be fair, he is the prince, therefore he was born to be a complete prat."
"And you," Cedric said, hoisting his satchel onto the horse and turning around to point a finger at Merlin. "You called the crown prince a clotpole and he only told you to go home and think about what you did. He certainly has quite a thing for you, doesn't he?"
Merlin choked on air, shaking his head slightly, and blushing horribly. "I...I...don't know what you mean, Arthur..."
"Has it out for you!" Cedric declared, now trying to mount his horse, but having a hard time of it what with his foot always missing the stirrup. He looked speculatively at Merlin, then at the ground. "I don't suppose you wouldn't give me a leg up?"
"Not on your life," Merlin said, scowling. "And what do you mean, 'has it out for me?'"
"He must really hate you, ordering you around like he does, spoiled prince manners aside. I don't understand why you don't just leave and be done with it all."
"He's a good man," Merlin said automatically.
"I mean, here I save his life from a rampaging beast-"
"Took credit for what someone else did," Merlin corrected, bristling in annoyance. Cedric was still trying in vain to mount his horse, dubiously trying to hold the stirrup and stick his foot in simultaneously.
"Saved his life and when I reasonably ask for a position in the royal house, he gets me a job doing laundry."
"But you waited on him," Merlin said, confused.
"He asked me to, so naturally I did. He said he wanted to show you how a decent manservant behaves. To think, he would do all that just to make your life more miserable than it already is as a lowly servant."
"You think he hates me?"
"Too right! Oh, how he went on and on and on about everything you do wrong! I'm probably the second most knowledgeable resource in the world on your cock-ups now."
Merlin knew Arthur thought he was a brainless idiot, a harmless simpleton on his best days, but he sorely doubted that Arthur flat-out hated him.
"So he hates me, does he?"
Cedric crowed in victory as he finally hit the stirrup and pulled himself halfway up the horse. Feeling generous, Merlin balanced him with a bit of subtle magic.
"Loathes you, I'm afraid. All day long it's 'Merlin is such an idiot' and 'Merlin does it like this' and 'I can't wait to see the look on his face when actually sees a full course meal brought on time for once.' Always so gleeful about it. He's clearly off his rocker, mate."
"Maybe," Merlin said, mind digesting this new information. Arthur talked about him all the time, even if it was to complain?
"No maybe about it!" Cedric finally mounted the horse, swaying unsteadily on top of it, making the horse dance anxiously in place to accommodate the changes in balance. "You definitely need to wriggle your way out of that position. He'll try to keep you there forever otherwise!"
With that, Cedric spurred the horse and raced past the gate just as the sun began to peek out over the horizon, filling the sky with soft, vibrant colors. Merlin closed his eyes, breathed in the smell of a new day, and went back to see if Arthur was healing well.
End
Pairing: Merlin/Arthur
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 1300
Warning/spoilers: spoilers for 2x01
Summary: Coda for "The Curse of Cornelius Sigan." Merlin talks to Cedric before he leaves.
Notes: Yeah, the episode bugged me, so I exorcised my demons with some fluffy fix-it fic. Also, if you know Star Trek TOS, you can play spot-the-reference! No beta, therefore all mistakes and accidental Americanisms are mine.
Merlin didn't envy the workers who would have to patch up the besieged walls of the castle, any more than he envied Gaius and the other volunteers who were still up and were likely to remain awake for many hours tending to the wounded. It had been hours since the siege, hours for Merlin to run favors for Gaius, to explain how he was miraculously freed from his cell by one of the magical statues blasting the door away, and to sit in a pitiful heap on the castle steps, looking miserably out over the mostly empty courtyard, piecing together the last few days.
In the stables, Arthur had ordered him to go home and think about whether he wanted to be Arthur's servant or not. The answer was, as everything else in his life was, complicated. He wanted nothing more than to tell Arthur to bugger off, do something dramatic like just leave Camelot, then spy on Arthur to see if he missed him or if he'd once again be charmed by anyone willing to save his stupid arse. But he had long passed that stage when he was eight and threatening to run away from home because his mum wouldn't let him use magic to clean the dishes and she told him to go ahead and leave. He had stayed outside the house for hours until nightfall, when his mother came out, gathered his shaking body into her warm arms, and told him to never threaten someone you care about like that unless you really are willing to leave. He wanted to stay. He needed to stay because of his destiny, but he wanted to stay because...well, because he was slowly realizing that Arthur himself meant too much to him. Yet Arthur clearly thought Merlin was an idiot, and he glumly recalled every instance in which Arthur did something for him, but they were always about settling debts or helping the weak.
Merlin buried his face in his hands and groaned. He was considered a helpless victim, just like any other citizen in Camelot. A bunch of moving targets for Arthur and his knights to protect, and it was just fitting that the official color of Camelot was red, like blood or a bulls-eye. Perhaps they could all wear red shirts and dresses so they could more easily be identified and picked off.
As he buried himself in these thoughts, a hurried figure in the courtyard drew him out of his reverie. It was still mostly dark out, the sun not yet having risen but putting enough light in the sky for Merlin to make out shapes with accuracy. The figure was saddling a horse, and Merlin had a suspicion on who it was. Curiosity propelled him toward the figure, and sure enough it was Cedric, trying for a third time to tighten the saddle so he could leave, hands shaking too much to be much use.
"It seems you're good with unsaddling a horse, but not so good with the reverse," Merlin said. Cedric jumped theatrically, arms stretched across the horse's side. When he recognized Merlin, he sheepishly turned around and went back to what he was doing, hands shaking even more.
"Yeah, sorry about all that," he said, not sounding sorry at all. Well, Merlin found that he couldn't be too upset about it, as Cedric definitely got what he inadvertently asked for in this case.
"No matter. You were, for a short time, a better servant than I," Merlin said, sarcastic. Any servant who took credit for another's act of heroism or only behaved properly so he could turn around and steal from Arthur later received no marks in Merlin's book.
Cedric looked smug. "That I was."
Merlin scowled, and he hoped that his eyes didn't flash gold. From what he had gleaned from Cedric after Sigan was pulled from his body, Cedric remembered nothing except consuming darkness and fear while he was possessed. He certainly didn't want to alert him to the fact that Merlin was magic after all that had occurred.
"It's just as well," Cedric continued, managing to tighten the saddle properly. "I couldn't have lasted a day longer. I hate doing chores, especially not for a high-maintenance prince."
Merlin smirked inwardly. "To be fair, he is the prince, therefore he was born to be a complete prat."
"And you," Cedric said, hoisting his satchel onto the horse and turning around to point a finger at Merlin. "You called the crown prince a clotpole and he only told you to go home and think about what you did. He certainly has quite a thing for you, doesn't he?"
Merlin choked on air, shaking his head slightly, and blushing horribly. "I...I...don't know what you mean, Arthur..."
"Has it out for you!" Cedric declared, now trying to mount his horse, but having a hard time of it what with his foot always missing the stirrup. He looked speculatively at Merlin, then at the ground. "I don't suppose you wouldn't give me a leg up?"
"Not on your life," Merlin said, scowling. "And what do you mean, 'has it out for me?'"
"He must really hate you, ordering you around like he does, spoiled prince manners aside. I don't understand why you don't just leave and be done with it all."
"He's a good man," Merlin said automatically.
"I mean, here I save his life from a rampaging beast-"
"Took credit for what someone else did," Merlin corrected, bristling in annoyance. Cedric was still trying in vain to mount his horse, dubiously trying to hold the stirrup and stick his foot in simultaneously.
"Saved his life and when I reasonably ask for a position in the royal house, he gets me a job doing laundry."
"But you waited on him," Merlin said, confused.
"He asked me to, so naturally I did. He said he wanted to show you how a decent manservant behaves. To think, he would do all that just to make your life more miserable than it already is as a lowly servant."
"You think he hates me?"
"Too right! Oh, how he went on and on and on about everything you do wrong! I'm probably the second most knowledgeable resource in the world on your cock-ups now."
Merlin knew Arthur thought he was a brainless idiot, a harmless simpleton on his best days, but he sorely doubted that Arthur flat-out hated him.
"So he hates me, does he?"
Cedric crowed in victory as he finally hit the stirrup and pulled himself halfway up the horse. Feeling generous, Merlin balanced him with a bit of subtle magic.
"Loathes you, I'm afraid. All day long it's 'Merlin is such an idiot' and 'Merlin does it like this' and 'I can't wait to see the look on his face when actually sees a full course meal brought on time for once.' Always so gleeful about it. He's clearly off his rocker, mate."
"Maybe," Merlin said, mind digesting this new information. Arthur talked about him all the time, even if it was to complain?
"No maybe about it!" Cedric finally mounted the horse, swaying unsteadily on top of it, making the horse dance anxiously in place to accommodate the changes in balance. "You definitely need to wriggle your way out of that position. He'll try to keep you there forever otherwise!"
With that, Cedric spurred the horse and raced past the gate just as the sun began to peek out over the horizon, filling the sky with soft, vibrant colors. Merlin closed his eyes, breathed in the smell of a new day, and went back to see if Arthur was healing well.
End