[merlin] five necessary facts
Title: Five Necessary Facts
Pairing: Merlin/Arthur
Rating: G
Warnings: Genderbender: girl!Arthur, girl!Merlin thus femslash
Summary: Five necessary facts about Arthur
Notes: horribly unbeated, so please point out any mistakes
ONE:
The first thing you need to know about Princess Arthur is that, no, it is not her name. Of course it isn’t, the masculinity inherent in such a name at odds with the velvet of her demure court dresses, but it is the name she answers to when her father isn’t watching over her with hawk eyes.
And when she’s escaped his constant stare, when she’s exchanged velvet and silk for rough, sturdy linen and leather, that is when she is truly herself. With a sword in her hand and her chin tilted up, stubbornly, determinedly, she is comfortable in her body and in her spirit. This is who she is meant to be, Camelot’s protector. One day she shall be Queen, and it will not do to be unaware of the realities of protecting, of possessing a kingdom.
Her maidservant understands. Merlin helps her leave the castle in plain, unassuming disguises that are even more effective for their simplicity. She clutches at Arthur’s hand when the princess helps her lift onto her horse, still unaccustomed to the larger breeds favoured by the royal household, and together their rough calluses catch, Arthur’s from un-ladylike activity and Merlin from hard labour.
TWO:
She loves her father. She does, she does, with all the fire inside of her but oh, how she hates him too, when he looks over her with that flash of pain in his eyes and how he is quick to look away, although always back as well. How many times she has been told that she resembles her mother, beautiful and fair, but Arthur wishes to remind them that she resembles her father, too, that she possesses his strong hands and strong heart.
That, though, would be improper, and despite all of her extracurricular activities, Arthur is careful to project the perfect, feminine image to the gold and gilt of court. She accepts with resignation that she has a role to play and she plays it well, even as her eyes narrow as she watches her brother Morgant argue quietly but passionately with the King, as she cannot in public.
She and Morgant, they have much in common, but they will never be close, never consider each other as siblings or even as friends, though trust remains thick between them. They can’t, not when Arthur harbours this ineffectual envy in her chest as she sees his freedom to do as he pleases when she herself is restricted by golden chains and sheets of velvet.
THREE:
Arthur despises the many women of court that she sees, simpering and giggling behind their hands, following behind their husbands like they have had no other, no better, dream in life. There is nothing more despicable than uselessness, she feels, and that such women are considered superior to the peasants working the fields is something she cannot understand.
There are different expectations for men and women, she acknowledges. She watches the King’s knights, Morgant at the forefront, steady and able, and she watches the King’s advisors, with their swollen stomachs and their beady eyes. Both pivotal in the management of a kingdom, of course, but still; it makes her skin crawl to feel their gaze upon her.
But these women, they are drains on the castle’s funds. Their idiocy and lack of independent thought infuriate Arthur, who often has bandages wrapped around her skin beneath the restriction of cloth, chafing against minor wounds. And even if they were not as capable as her in martial arts, they could seek to expand their knowledge of politics or religion, instead of remaining avidly interested in only the seasons’ latest fashions.
It is, perhaps, one reason she so prizes her maidservant. Her Merlin, with her bright eyes and graceless movements, who is always unafraid and never shy, and a constant, competent guard of Arthur’s back.
FOUR:
Arthur will never know the touch of a man of her own volition. It is not that she is attracted only to the softness of women, or repulsed by the hardness of men. It is only that she has already found her greatest love; and, even if she had not, she would never allow herself to become a disgraced tool for a man.
And why should she become a vessel for such lusts when she has her own lover here? Her own lover, her beloved, with her soft black hair and eager smile.
There is no better bliss in the world than to see her Merlin above her, pressed close against her and always smiling, brushing soft kisses against chain-abraded skin. When she closes her eyes and listens to the sound of Merlin whispering against all of her secret places, she can see the future spread out like the lightest cotton covering in the summer. She listens to Merlin whispering My Queen, and My beloved, and most importantly, simply, Arthur.
Although sometimes, she thinks, the greatest bliss comes from tumbling Merlin down to the mattress and listening to her laugh.
FIVE:
It is her greatest fear that her father will not name her as his heir. Heiress. In the darkest nights of nights, she wishes bitterly that she had been born a man, but such whimsical nothings are of no use to her and those thoughts are quickly brushed away.
She wakes in the middle of the night with nightmares, of herself shackled to a faceless man ruining her kingdom, of Merlin trembling in dungeons, of Morgant brandishing a sword at her and her father dead and ashen. She would never dare to presume that she could rule more effectively than her father; his iron will and legendary ruthlessness will be difficult to follow for any man, let alone herself. But she secretly entertains the treasonous thoughts that she would make a better ruler, a fairer sovereign, whose loyalty to the people and the kingdom would rivalled only by her pride in their prosperity.
She knows, and Merlin tells her, that she has the ability to make magic rise in the land, to heal the fissures and banish the insidious evils that her father has unwittingly cradled.
Princess Arthur knows with an unnerving certainty that her name will be revered through the passages of time, and Merlin with her; that together they can weave the most beautiful of tales, and they will stand side by side in unwavering beauty that will reverberate through the land.
Pairing: Merlin/Arthur
Rating: G
Warnings: Genderbender: girl!Arthur, girl!Merlin thus femslash
Summary: Five necessary facts about Arthur
Notes: horribly unbeated, so please point out any mistakes
ONE:
The first thing you need to know about Princess Arthur is that, no, it is not her name. Of course it isn’t, the masculinity inherent in such a name at odds with the velvet of her demure court dresses, but it is the name she answers to when her father isn’t watching over her with hawk eyes.
And when she’s escaped his constant stare, when she’s exchanged velvet and silk for rough, sturdy linen and leather, that is when she is truly herself. With a sword in her hand and her chin tilted up, stubbornly, determinedly, she is comfortable in her body and in her spirit. This is who she is meant to be, Camelot’s protector. One day she shall be Queen, and it will not do to be unaware of the realities of protecting, of possessing a kingdom.
Her maidservant understands. Merlin helps her leave the castle in plain, unassuming disguises that are even more effective for their simplicity. She clutches at Arthur’s hand when the princess helps her lift onto her horse, still unaccustomed to the larger breeds favoured by the royal household, and together their rough calluses catch, Arthur’s from un-ladylike activity and Merlin from hard labour.
TWO:
She loves her father. She does, she does, with all the fire inside of her but oh, how she hates him too, when he looks over her with that flash of pain in his eyes and how he is quick to look away, although always back as well. How many times she has been told that she resembles her mother, beautiful and fair, but Arthur wishes to remind them that she resembles her father, too, that she possesses his strong hands and strong heart.
That, though, would be improper, and despite all of her extracurricular activities, Arthur is careful to project the perfect, feminine image to the gold and gilt of court. She accepts with resignation that she has a role to play and she plays it well, even as her eyes narrow as she watches her brother Morgant argue quietly but passionately with the King, as she cannot in public.
She and Morgant, they have much in common, but they will never be close, never consider each other as siblings or even as friends, though trust remains thick between them. They can’t, not when Arthur harbours this ineffectual envy in her chest as she sees his freedom to do as he pleases when she herself is restricted by golden chains and sheets of velvet.
THREE:
Arthur despises the many women of court that she sees, simpering and giggling behind their hands, following behind their husbands like they have had no other, no better, dream in life. There is nothing more despicable than uselessness, she feels, and that such women are considered superior to the peasants working the fields is something she cannot understand.
There are different expectations for men and women, she acknowledges. She watches the King’s knights, Morgant at the forefront, steady and able, and she watches the King’s advisors, with their swollen stomachs and their beady eyes. Both pivotal in the management of a kingdom, of course, but still; it makes her skin crawl to feel their gaze upon her.
But these women, they are drains on the castle’s funds. Their idiocy and lack of independent thought infuriate Arthur, who often has bandages wrapped around her skin beneath the restriction of cloth, chafing against minor wounds. And even if they were not as capable as her in martial arts, they could seek to expand their knowledge of politics or religion, instead of remaining avidly interested in only the seasons’ latest fashions.
It is, perhaps, one reason she so prizes her maidservant. Her Merlin, with her bright eyes and graceless movements, who is always unafraid and never shy, and a constant, competent guard of Arthur’s back.
FOUR:
Arthur will never know the touch of a man of her own volition. It is not that she is attracted only to the softness of women, or repulsed by the hardness of men. It is only that she has already found her greatest love; and, even if she had not, she would never allow herself to become a disgraced tool for a man.
And why should she become a vessel for such lusts when she has her own lover here? Her own lover, her beloved, with her soft black hair and eager smile.
There is no better bliss in the world than to see her Merlin above her, pressed close against her and always smiling, brushing soft kisses against chain-abraded skin. When she closes her eyes and listens to the sound of Merlin whispering against all of her secret places, she can see the future spread out like the lightest cotton covering in the summer. She listens to Merlin whispering My Queen, and My beloved, and most importantly, simply, Arthur.
Although sometimes, she thinks, the greatest bliss comes from tumbling Merlin down to the mattress and listening to her laugh.
FIVE:
It is her greatest fear that her father will not name her as his heir. Heiress. In the darkest nights of nights, she wishes bitterly that she had been born a man, but such whimsical nothings are of no use to her and those thoughts are quickly brushed away.
She wakes in the middle of the night with nightmares, of herself shackled to a faceless man ruining her kingdom, of Merlin trembling in dungeons, of Morgant brandishing a sword at her and her father dead and ashen. She would never dare to presume that she could rule more effectively than her father; his iron will and legendary ruthlessness will be difficult to follow for any man, let alone herself. But she secretly entertains the treasonous thoughts that she would make a better ruler, a fairer sovereign, whose loyalty to the people and the kingdom would rivalled only by her pride in their prosperity.
She knows, and Merlin tells her, that she has the ability to make magic rise in the land, to heal the fissures and banish the insidious evils that her father has unwittingly cradled.
Princess Arthur knows with an unnerving certainty that her name will be revered through the passages of time, and Merlin with her; that together they can weave the most beautiful of tales, and they will stand side by side in unwavering beauty that will reverberate through the land.