Ars Fabula
Oct. 10th, 2016 10:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
madimpossibledreamerSo this Friday one of my roommates (a sophomore) invited me to watch Merlin. I haven't been interacting with any of them as much as I should, so I agreed.
One problem: watching Merlin is incredibly dangerous to my productivity. I watch it and then I have this urge to read all the fanfic. Which, if you haven't seen the AO3 list of fanfic...could probably not be completed within three years of straight reading. So. (I have no idea where this compulsion comes from. It's definitely not my favorite show, but I just get really, really distracted by it. Admittedly, the fact that most of the cast is hot may be a factor here, but then, that's true for most of my fandoms. So that's not really a difference, is it.)
Anyway, one good thing came out of it: this fic. Not that the fandom really needs more, but.
It's longer than intended and somehow wound up being genfic. Not sure how that happened, given that I mostly read Merthur, but...you know what, the same thing's happening with pretty much all the other BBC Merlin and BBC Sherlock fics I write. Huh.
My brain is a strange place.
~Dreamer~
p.s. also the title is not an ars magica reference, what are you talking about.
Main Points:
Merlin AU, Arthur Finds Out (sort of)
Chapter Summary: Merlin just wants to sleep, but Arthur's annoyed and decides to tell a story.
Word Count: 2101
Rating: T
Merlin is really, really tired. Yet another magic-user decided to try to kill Arthur in some roundabout way (of course), it’s a feast (almost as predictable), and Arthur remains (as ever) oblivious to the whole thing.
Judging by the annoyed looks he keeps sending Merlin’s way, he’s also obtained the ire of a noble whose personal servant can’t be arsed to attend said feast, or, properly, him.
When they reach Arthur’s chambers (and it seems other servants don’t have a knack for not filling Arthur’s cup less often so he doesn’t get drunk, which is a service Merlin helpfully provides that just earns complaints) he hopes the prince will just let him leave, because really, the magic took a lot out of him this time, and he’s just about to collapse on the stone floor (it’s looking more comfortable by the minute), but of course, he’s Merlin, and Merlin can’t have a nice, easy life. No, he has to have a life with a stupidly oblivious prince whose life he has to save time and time again and some ungrateful excuse of a destiny.
“Stay. We need to talk, Merlin.”
He knows there’s no getting out of it. “Can it wait?” he asks bluntly, just in case. Surely Arthur has to see the bone-deep weariness on his face.
But of course, Arthur has chosen now to be one of his cruel moments. “Why? You hardly did any work, being conspicuously absent at a feast I explicitly told you you could not be missing for.” And there it is, that malicious smile that says ‘you will stay and do as I say or you will severely regret it’. It’s one of the expressions Merlin dreads most. “Since you’re such a girl, maybe you’d like a bedtime story, just to get you to sleep properly. We wouldn’t want you to not show up again tomorrow, even though that’s one of those things that you’re really good at.”
Merlin rolls his eyes and tries to sit, but Arthur just hauls him up again. His breath smells a little of alcohol, but right now he just seems alarmingly sober. “No, I won’t have you falling asleep during the good parts. You can stand.”
The thought that maybe he’s done no good, that it’s all been for nothing, pierces Merlin’s heart, and he swallows thickly. Is the Arthur of today any different than the bully he’d met what seems like an eternity ago?
“Come on, you’ll enjoy it. You might even find a character you like.” Arthur turns his chair so it faces Merlin, then sits, crossing his legs. He almost looks…nervous? But that’s a stupid thought, and Merlin really needs his sleep, and can’t Arthur find some other time to indulge his stupid whims? “This all starts in a kingdom long ago. Oddly enough, it was also named Camelot.”
“Really?” Merlin interrupts. It’s harder to not be sarcastic when he’s this tired. It’s hard enough to filter everything his brain sends to his mouth when it’s working properly.
That earns a fierce glare, and if Merlin was actually capable of being afraid of Arthur, he’d be afraid then. “Fine, it’s named whatever you like. I didn’t realize you were actually a critic of folk tales, Merlin.” He takes a deep breath, laces his hands together, and Merlin notices something he hadn’t before that makes him realize that something’s going on, that this isn’t just some stupid punishment for saving Arthur’s life, again, without being able to tell anyone. He did that just to try to stop his hands from trembling. He really is nervous, for whatever reason.
Merlin suddenly feels a little more awake, and watches carefully. For all he complains, Arthur is important, not just in the scheme of things. He’s brilliant when he chooses to be.
“Anyway, there was a boy, about our age, who traveled to this kingdom to be the apprentice of the court physician. Magic was outlawed in this kingdom, because the king believed magic was evil, and there were many trials to rid the world of these sorcerers.” The king? What about the prince? But the words catch in Merlin’s throat, and he can’t bring himself to say anything.
“You’d probably identify with this boy. He’s clumsy and keeps doing thoughtless things, like doing his best to make royalty angry.” It’s a good thing Merlin is stunned into silence by this whole thing, or he’d be saying things it’s best not be said.
“In this occasion, he outdid himself, and angered the prince of the kingdom. If he wasn’t a ward of one of the members of the court, the stocks probably would have been the least of his troubles. But then he goes and does something inexplicable.” Arthur fidgets. If he wasn’t trying to look dignified, he’d probably be pacing, now.
“A sorceress attacked, taking on the form of one of the most important guests at the banquet. She put everyone to sleep. But then, somehow, this boy was able to stay awake. He’d made it plain that he didn’t like the prince, but instead of standing by, he saved this prince’s life, and was given the position of manservant in the royal household.”
Arthur’s not quite as oblivious as he seems is instantly replaced with please, please, don’t let today be the point in which everything falls apart.
“Perhaps now I should talk about the boy himself. He’s absolute rubbish at being a servant. He doesn’t know how to properly do any of his chores, or show up on time. In fact, he’s gone a lot of the time when he shouldn’t be. He’s insolent and has no sense of self-preservation. And yet, for all that,” Arthur sighs, “…you could not find someone more loyal. It took a while for the prince to realize, but he was grateful. The boy didn’t know his place, but it was this which was endearing. For there’s a kind of charm about this boy. Somehow, you just can’t help but like him, even as you wonder whether he’s deficient in some way. This boy has no proper respect, but if you earn it, he’s fiercely loyal. Many knights could learn loyalty from this servant. He’s proven, again and again, his fierce devotion to his master, willing, senselessly or not, to die for him or anyone else who’s earned his particularly stubborn brand of loyalty. To be a good friend, regardless of his station. Most of his comments are anything but insightful, but here and there a real gem shows through, leaving you wondering how someone so impossible, or inconsistent, exists.”
Merlin makes a kind of strangled sound, and Arthur glances over, looking a little concerned, but continues anyway. “Back to the story, this manservant finds a knight at a tournament, trying to use magic to kill the prince. Drinks poison for him. Again and again, finds the evil sorcerer willing the prince wrong. I’d wager this boy found more evil magic users within a month than the king in a whole year, despite the near-constant executions.”
It was a kind of thin veil at first, Merlin thinks, near-hysterically, but there was no pretending that this wasn’t a story about him.
“The manservant is also good at making his master re-examine everything he’s known,” Arthur continues, seemingly oblivious to Merlin having a crisis (and really, couldn’t he have waited, that was inconsiderate and not to mention rude, Merlin really, really needed some sleep to deal with this whole thing). “He’s an utter girl and wrings his hands even at the thought of killing deer or rabbits, which, by the way, are used to feed people and not wasted in any form. It’s not all cruel or for decoration or bragging rights or whatever other ridiculous idea said manservant has in his brain.” If Merlin wasn’t having trouble even thinking right now, he’d realize that the directness meant that Arthur was particularly bothered by the idea of ‘this manservant’ thinking he’s cruel.
“He never says it, but he’s particularly bothered by the executions. Now, it took the prince a little while to notice the pattern, but once he did it was exceedingly obvious. Whenever someone young, or old, or who used magic only for a little harmless fun or for others…this manservant is more useless than usual. Except there are some executions during which this manservant doesn’t shed a tear. Those who have used magic to hurt others, especially when they’ve tried to kill the prince, earn no tears. Now, this in itself wouldn’t make the story clear, but there are other clues to explain the mystery of the manservant.”
Oh? Merlin thinks, feeling a giggle threatening to burst free.
“Somehow, always, the boy finds the magic threatening Came—the kingdom, or the prince. Finds them when no one else ever seems to notice. How he can pick the sorcerer out of everyone is an inexplicable talent. He’s awful at lying, and only disappears during a crisis, but with that whole ridiculous loyalty thing, he’s far from a coward. In fact, he’s braver than a majority of the kingdom’s knights. And he seems to think that the prince is the greatest idiot in the kingdom.”
Here it comes, Merlin thinks, and can’t stop the nervous giggle. The look that Arthur’s giving him is now most certainly the ‘you’ve-just-tripped-again-and-I-don’t-know-whether-to-be-annoyed-or-ask-if-you’re-all-right’ variety.
“It only took a few dozen attacks to be certain, but this idiot happens to be a sorcerer. In a kingdom where sorcery is outlawed. But instead of attacking the kingdom, this boy has been using his magic to save the prince, again and again. The prince wondered for a little while what the boy was planning on getting out of it, weighing all the potential motives in his head for a while before realizing that he’s known the truth of the matter all along.” Arthur looks up again, into Merlin’s awake, terrified eyes. “It’s the loyalty, you see. I’m not sure what the prince did to inspire such loyalty, but it’s all because the servant would die for anyone he considers a friend.”
The prince stares at his hands, voice suddenly sounding hollow, old. Any trace of being drunk is gone, just as any trace of Merlin’s sleepiness. “After that, the prince was hurt, wondering how he could inspire such loyalty but no trace of trust. The servant complains enough, but never once mentions anything that really bothers him. Then he realized that he hasn’t done a very good job at showing the servant that he doesn’t mind magic. Then he spent several days wondering if he’d been enchanted, since he’s always been told magic is evil and seems suddenly to not mind it. Then he came to the conclusion that magic is like a sword, and just as there are bandits who use swords for bad ends, there are also knights who protect the people using them. If this idiot has had magic for this long and still manages, not to be evil, but to continue being a bumbling, loyal, good-hearted, wise fool, then magic must not corrupt, after all. He spent considerably longer trying to decide what to do about it, and finally decided that his Camelot would have laws forbidding certain uses of magic, but that fear just inspires hate and that his father’s made a self-fulfilling prophecy. He’d like to be a better king than his father. More loved and trusted, anyway, and the servant could make a start.”
Merlin suddenly falls. He’s not sure where his legs are, but he half expects they’ve teleported themselves somewhere else, and he’s coughing.
“Merlin!” That’s…
Arthur, desperate, lunging. Brilliant Arthur, worth daring it all. Oblivious Arthur, only it seems he’s not quite so oblivious after all.
There are strong arms keeping him steady, and a voice calmly, gently telling him, “Easy, now, it’s going to be all right,” and for the first time, he can bring himself to believe it.
His voice comes out. It’s a croak he barely recognizes, and Arthur probably couldn’t make anything out if he wasn’t quite so close. “How’s it end?”
The prince laughs, a free, happy laugh. He doesn’t do it nearly often enough; has too much on his shoulders. Rather like Merlin in that respect, really. A kingdom on their shoulders, but they’re not fighting the battles on their own anymore, and the servant could get used to that idea. “Well, I have no idea, Merlin, seeing as the story isn’t finished being written yet. But perhaps, together, the prince and the servant could write it together.”
Merlin smiles and nods. “I’d like that.”
One problem: watching Merlin is incredibly dangerous to my productivity. I watch it and then I have this urge to read all the fanfic. Which, if you haven't seen the AO3 list of fanfic...could probably not be completed within three years of straight reading. So. (I have no idea where this compulsion comes from. It's definitely not my favorite show, but I just get really, really distracted by it. Admittedly, the fact that most of the cast is hot may be a factor here, but then, that's true for most of my fandoms. So that's not really a difference, is it.)
Anyway, one good thing came out of it: this fic. Not that the fandom really needs more, but.
It's longer than intended and somehow wound up being genfic. Not sure how that happened, given that I mostly read Merthur, but...you know what, the same thing's happening with pretty much all the other BBC Merlin and BBC Sherlock fics I write. Huh.
My brain is a strange place.
~Dreamer~
p.s. also the title is not an ars magica reference, what are you talking about.
Main Points:
Merlin AU, Arthur Finds Out (sort of)
Chapter Summary: Merlin just wants to sleep, but Arthur's annoyed and decides to tell a story.
Word Count: 2101
Rating: T
Merlin is really, really tired. Yet another magic-user decided to try to kill Arthur in some roundabout way (of course), it’s a feast (almost as predictable), and Arthur remains (as ever) oblivious to the whole thing.
Judging by the annoyed looks he keeps sending Merlin’s way, he’s also obtained the ire of a noble whose personal servant can’t be arsed to attend said feast, or, properly, him.
When they reach Arthur’s chambers (and it seems other servants don’t have a knack for not filling Arthur’s cup less often so he doesn’t get drunk, which is a service Merlin helpfully provides that just earns complaints) he hopes the prince will just let him leave, because really, the magic took a lot out of him this time, and he’s just about to collapse on the stone floor (it’s looking more comfortable by the minute), but of course, he’s Merlin, and Merlin can’t have a nice, easy life. No, he has to have a life with a stupidly oblivious prince whose life he has to save time and time again and some ungrateful excuse of a destiny.
“Stay. We need to talk, Merlin.”
He knows there’s no getting out of it. “Can it wait?” he asks bluntly, just in case. Surely Arthur has to see the bone-deep weariness on his face.
But of course, Arthur has chosen now to be one of his cruel moments. “Why? You hardly did any work, being conspicuously absent at a feast I explicitly told you you could not be missing for.” And there it is, that malicious smile that says ‘you will stay and do as I say or you will severely regret it’. It’s one of the expressions Merlin dreads most. “Since you’re such a girl, maybe you’d like a bedtime story, just to get you to sleep properly. We wouldn’t want you to not show up again tomorrow, even though that’s one of those things that you’re really good at.”
Merlin rolls his eyes and tries to sit, but Arthur just hauls him up again. His breath smells a little of alcohol, but right now he just seems alarmingly sober. “No, I won’t have you falling asleep during the good parts. You can stand.”
The thought that maybe he’s done no good, that it’s all been for nothing, pierces Merlin’s heart, and he swallows thickly. Is the Arthur of today any different than the bully he’d met what seems like an eternity ago?
“Come on, you’ll enjoy it. You might even find a character you like.” Arthur turns his chair so it faces Merlin, then sits, crossing his legs. He almost looks…nervous? But that’s a stupid thought, and Merlin really needs his sleep, and can’t Arthur find some other time to indulge his stupid whims? “This all starts in a kingdom long ago. Oddly enough, it was also named Camelot.”
“Really?” Merlin interrupts. It’s harder to not be sarcastic when he’s this tired. It’s hard enough to filter everything his brain sends to his mouth when it’s working properly.
That earns a fierce glare, and if Merlin was actually capable of being afraid of Arthur, he’d be afraid then. “Fine, it’s named whatever you like. I didn’t realize you were actually a critic of folk tales, Merlin.” He takes a deep breath, laces his hands together, and Merlin notices something he hadn’t before that makes him realize that something’s going on, that this isn’t just some stupid punishment for saving Arthur’s life, again, without being able to tell anyone. He did that just to try to stop his hands from trembling. He really is nervous, for whatever reason.
Merlin suddenly feels a little more awake, and watches carefully. For all he complains, Arthur is important, not just in the scheme of things. He’s brilliant when he chooses to be.
“Anyway, there was a boy, about our age, who traveled to this kingdom to be the apprentice of the court physician. Magic was outlawed in this kingdom, because the king believed magic was evil, and there were many trials to rid the world of these sorcerers.” The king? What about the prince? But the words catch in Merlin’s throat, and he can’t bring himself to say anything.
“You’d probably identify with this boy. He’s clumsy and keeps doing thoughtless things, like doing his best to make royalty angry.” It’s a good thing Merlin is stunned into silence by this whole thing, or he’d be saying things it’s best not be said.
“In this occasion, he outdid himself, and angered the prince of the kingdom. If he wasn’t a ward of one of the members of the court, the stocks probably would have been the least of his troubles. But then he goes and does something inexplicable.” Arthur fidgets. If he wasn’t trying to look dignified, he’d probably be pacing, now.
“A sorceress attacked, taking on the form of one of the most important guests at the banquet. She put everyone to sleep. But then, somehow, this boy was able to stay awake. He’d made it plain that he didn’t like the prince, but instead of standing by, he saved this prince’s life, and was given the position of manservant in the royal household.”
Arthur’s not quite as oblivious as he seems is instantly replaced with please, please, don’t let today be the point in which everything falls apart.
“Perhaps now I should talk about the boy himself. He’s absolute rubbish at being a servant. He doesn’t know how to properly do any of his chores, or show up on time. In fact, he’s gone a lot of the time when he shouldn’t be. He’s insolent and has no sense of self-preservation. And yet, for all that,” Arthur sighs, “…you could not find someone more loyal. It took a while for the prince to realize, but he was grateful. The boy didn’t know his place, but it was this which was endearing. For there’s a kind of charm about this boy. Somehow, you just can’t help but like him, even as you wonder whether he’s deficient in some way. This boy has no proper respect, but if you earn it, he’s fiercely loyal. Many knights could learn loyalty from this servant. He’s proven, again and again, his fierce devotion to his master, willing, senselessly or not, to die for him or anyone else who’s earned his particularly stubborn brand of loyalty. To be a good friend, regardless of his station. Most of his comments are anything but insightful, but here and there a real gem shows through, leaving you wondering how someone so impossible, or inconsistent, exists.”
Merlin makes a kind of strangled sound, and Arthur glances over, looking a little concerned, but continues anyway. “Back to the story, this manservant finds a knight at a tournament, trying to use magic to kill the prince. Drinks poison for him. Again and again, finds the evil sorcerer willing the prince wrong. I’d wager this boy found more evil magic users within a month than the king in a whole year, despite the near-constant executions.”
It was a kind of thin veil at first, Merlin thinks, near-hysterically, but there was no pretending that this wasn’t a story about him.
“The manservant is also good at making his master re-examine everything he’s known,” Arthur continues, seemingly oblivious to Merlin having a crisis (and really, couldn’t he have waited, that was inconsiderate and not to mention rude, Merlin really, really needed some sleep to deal with this whole thing). “He’s an utter girl and wrings his hands even at the thought of killing deer or rabbits, which, by the way, are used to feed people and not wasted in any form. It’s not all cruel or for decoration or bragging rights or whatever other ridiculous idea said manservant has in his brain.” If Merlin wasn’t having trouble even thinking right now, he’d realize that the directness meant that Arthur was particularly bothered by the idea of ‘this manservant’ thinking he’s cruel.
“He never says it, but he’s particularly bothered by the executions. Now, it took the prince a little while to notice the pattern, but once he did it was exceedingly obvious. Whenever someone young, or old, or who used magic only for a little harmless fun or for others…this manservant is more useless than usual. Except there are some executions during which this manservant doesn’t shed a tear. Those who have used magic to hurt others, especially when they’ve tried to kill the prince, earn no tears. Now, this in itself wouldn’t make the story clear, but there are other clues to explain the mystery of the manservant.”
Oh? Merlin thinks, feeling a giggle threatening to burst free.
“Somehow, always, the boy finds the magic threatening Came—the kingdom, or the prince. Finds them when no one else ever seems to notice. How he can pick the sorcerer out of everyone is an inexplicable talent. He’s awful at lying, and only disappears during a crisis, but with that whole ridiculous loyalty thing, he’s far from a coward. In fact, he’s braver than a majority of the kingdom’s knights. And he seems to think that the prince is the greatest idiot in the kingdom.”
Here it comes, Merlin thinks, and can’t stop the nervous giggle. The look that Arthur’s giving him is now most certainly the ‘you’ve-just-tripped-again-and-I-don’t-know-whether-to-be-annoyed-or-ask-if-you’re-all-right’ variety.
“It only took a few dozen attacks to be certain, but this idiot happens to be a sorcerer. In a kingdom where sorcery is outlawed. But instead of attacking the kingdom, this boy has been using his magic to save the prince, again and again. The prince wondered for a little while what the boy was planning on getting out of it, weighing all the potential motives in his head for a while before realizing that he’s known the truth of the matter all along.” Arthur looks up again, into Merlin’s awake, terrified eyes. “It’s the loyalty, you see. I’m not sure what the prince did to inspire such loyalty, but it’s all because the servant would die for anyone he considers a friend.”
The prince stares at his hands, voice suddenly sounding hollow, old. Any trace of being drunk is gone, just as any trace of Merlin’s sleepiness. “After that, the prince was hurt, wondering how he could inspire such loyalty but no trace of trust. The servant complains enough, but never once mentions anything that really bothers him. Then he realized that he hasn’t done a very good job at showing the servant that he doesn’t mind magic. Then he spent several days wondering if he’d been enchanted, since he’s always been told magic is evil and seems suddenly to not mind it. Then he came to the conclusion that magic is like a sword, and just as there are bandits who use swords for bad ends, there are also knights who protect the people using them. If this idiot has had magic for this long and still manages, not to be evil, but to continue being a bumbling, loyal, good-hearted, wise fool, then magic must not corrupt, after all. He spent considerably longer trying to decide what to do about it, and finally decided that his Camelot would have laws forbidding certain uses of magic, but that fear just inspires hate and that his father’s made a self-fulfilling prophecy. He’d like to be a better king than his father. More loved and trusted, anyway, and the servant could make a start.”
Merlin suddenly falls. He’s not sure where his legs are, but he half expects they’ve teleported themselves somewhere else, and he’s coughing.
“Merlin!” That’s…
Arthur, desperate, lunging. Brilliant Arthur, worth daring it all. Oblivious Arthur, only it seems he’s not quite so oblivious after all.
There are strong arms keeping him steady, and a voice calmly, gently telling him, “Easy, now, it’s going to be all right,” and for the first time, he can bring himself to believe it.
His voice comes out. It’s a croak he barely recognizes, and Arthur probably couldn’t make anything out if he wasn’t quite so close. “How’s it end?”
The prince laughs, a free, happy laugh. He doesn’t do it nearly often enough; has too much on his shoulders. Rather like Merlin in that respect, really. A kingdom on their shoulders, but they’re not fighting the battles on their own anymore, and the servant could get used to that idea. “Well, I have no idea, Merlin, seeing as the story isn’t finished being written yet. But perhaps, together, the prince and the servant could write it together.”
Merlin smiles and nods. “I’d like that.”