Fic: Sigan - Coda (Merlin fic)
TITLE: Sigan - Coda
FANDOM: Merlin (BBC TV Series)
SPOILERS: S2, episode 1
RATING: G
SUMMARY: In the aftermath of Sigan's curse, Arthur uses his brain.
NOTES: Never thought I'd ever write Merlin fic. I do wish my brain would stop surprising me with bunnies.
___________________
Arthur was not a fool.
He would be the first to admit he prefered action to philosophy, but that didn't mean he didn't occasionally stop and think about things.
Several things about the past few days had been making him pause, suspicious. And, of course, the cause of that suspicion was the very same thing every time: Merlin. The clown of a manservant seemed to draw chaos like horse muck draws flies.
And yet...
And yet, in the end, everything was always resolved, and Merlin was there too.
That was where the problem was arising. Arthur could clearly remember the last few days: idiot manservant doing idiot things and getting worse by the day, to the point of tussling with new and notably less cheeky manservant, and - most importantly - ending up locked in the cells to calm down.
No one had bothered to explain why the skinny scarecrow was hovering behind Arthur's father when he came around, or why he had looked quite so relieved, even if he had tried to hide it. He still had no idea about stealth, Arthur remembered. Emotions all over his face. He probably couldn't keep a secret to save his life.
That was two nights ago, and now, the silly oaf was sitting in front of the fire, determinedly buffing the muck off Arthur's boots onto a ragged piece of cloth. Arthur loudly and deliberately dropped his gauntlet onto the table. His lips twitched as the servant almost jumped to his feet in fright.
"Merlin, Merlin, Merlin," he sighed, approaching the servant. "What are we going to do with you?"
The bright devil-may-care grin flashed across the boy's face. "Leave me to get on with my work and retire quietly for the night?"
That was what confused Arthur even more. It confused his father too. This insolent pup of a commoner came in and spoke to them like that, both of them, King and Prince. He treated them exactly as he treated everyone else, and as much as they showed their irritation, Arthur suspected that neither of them really minded. A novelty, perhaps. His father certainly took great delight in making sure the stocks were well-supplied with the ripest of vegetables.
"I think that's hoping for too much," Arthur replied, spreading his arms. "Up you get."
Merlin rolled his eyes expressively, but obeyed. The heavy plates were removed quickly, followed by the mail. After the first debacle, he'd actually gotten rather good at removing the armour, even if Arthur would never admit that out loud.
As soon as he was liberated, Arthur sprawled into the seat. "Tell me something, Merlin," he said, stretching out his legs towards the fire. "Why is it that wherever trouble happens, you manage to be there?"
Merlin shrugged as he hoisted the breastplate onto its stand. "Luck?" he offered without turning.
"Luck..." Arthur echoed.
Merlin turned and grinned. "It's usually other people's trouble," he said. "I think that's lucky for me."
Arthur snorted to smother a laugh. "You enjoy it, then?" he said dryly. "The life-threatening danger? Those sorcerers with their mad plans to bring down Camelot around our ears?"
Merlin's expression flickered, somewhere between amused and pained. "Well, I don't exactly enjoy it," he muttered. "It just sort of happens, and I sort of happen to be there." The grin returned, as if it had never gone. "If I sort of happen to survive, that's when I enjoy it."
Arthur rubbed his cheek with one finger thoughtfully. "I heard a strange thing," he said. "One of the survivors happened to notice that only one person was left conscious in the courtyard when that Sigan man was defeated."
"Oh?" Merlin sat back down by the muddy boots.
"Oh?" Arthur echoed. "Is that it?"
Merlin shrugged and picked up a boot. "Should I be more excited?"
"Well, given that person was meant to be locked up in one of the most secure prison cells in Camelot, you might at least act a bit surprised," Arthur retorted.
"Ah." The boy fidgetted uncomfortably.
Arthur snorted. "Yes. Ah." He leaned forward and rapped Merlin on the top of his head. "I don't suppose you have some clever explanation about how you managed to get out of the cell without any keys and into the courtyard when all the doors were sealed?"
"Um."
"You know, as far as your silly excuses go, 'um' is one of the worse ones," Arthur said.
"Well..."
"Although, that comes in a close second."
Merlin shot him a wounded look. Sometimes, the idiot boy reminded him of a puppy. He knew Morgana would view that description as soft and cuddly with big eyes that created an overwhelming urge to feed him. In his mind, it meant oversized ears, a tendency to drool and ruin perfectly good boots. And loyal, he supposed. The affair with the scheming new servant had proved that.
"It's... like this..." Merlin said carefully, as if he were choosing his words.
Arthur nudged him with his foot. "Like this?" he prompted.
"Sigan was breaking the buildings apart." Merlin stared determinedly at the boot in his lap, as if that was providing him with the answer. "The walls around the prison door cracked."
"Around the door?"
Merlin looked up and smiled his innocent, happy smile. "Yes! All around the doors. I couldn't have asked for better."
"I suppose that does make sense," Arthur said, feigning deep contemplation. "Walls. Cracking."
He didn't hear the sigh, but he saw Merlin's shoulders sag with relief.
"Although," he continued, watching the tension return, "I do wonder how the prison door ended up halfway down the corridor in a crumpled heap."
"Er..."
"Let me guess?" he said, watching Merlin's expression. "I suppose the force of those cracking walls made it burst out of its frame and fly into the wall twenty feet away?"
Merlin's eyes lit up. "Exactly! Cracking walls! Force!" He held up an emphatic finger. "It was amazing I wasn't crushed!"
"Amazing." Arthur looked him full in the face. "Especially since there isn't a single crack anywhere on that wing of the castle at all."
Merlin went white, clutching the boot in his lap.
Arthur took pity on the silly creature then. "But, I suppose Cedric really didn't like you at all," he said. "Maybe he wanted to get rid of you once and for all." Merlin nodded desperately. "Mind you, he did make an awful job of it."
Merlin giggled. "That's what you get for hiring a thief to work in your bedroom," he said.
Arthur swatted the back of Merlin's head sharply. "If you had been at least a little more capable, I wouldn't have felt the need to."
Merlin shot him a sunny grin. "It made you appreciate me more," he said. Arthur gave him a dismissive look. "Well, it did! After all, I'm not a deranged sorcerer trying to bring down Camelot, am I?" His eyes danced. "If you'd listened to me, you'd have less bruises, no dents in your armour and no need for a new decorator."
"You," Arthur said, "have a completely inappropriate sense of humour."
Merlin made a face at him. "Could be worse," he said. He took a breath, then blurted out, "I could admit I'm a powerful sorcerer in league with a dragon that lives under Camelot, trying to bring about your great and amazing destiny."
"Yes," Arthur said slowly. "You could be."
They stared at each other for a moment. Arthur could see sweat dotting Merlin's pale forehead, and he wondered if his servant really thought he was such a blind idiot. Too many coincidences, near misses, and strange things happened around them both.
"That's ridiculous," Merlin croaked.
Arthur snorted and swatted him on the head again. "I know it is," he said.
The relief in Merlin's face was heart-wrenching. Arthur watched him duck his head, and knew that he had said the right thing. Sometimes, things were best left alone. They both survived, more often than they should. He knew his father wouldn't let him even get that far in the explanation before an execution was called for. Best left alone. If things changed, they changed, but now, things were... well, they were all right. Even tolerable, when he kept his blabbering mouth shut.
"My boots are still muddy," he pointed out. "You have work to do."
"Yes, Sire," Merlin said, and that quick flash of a smile returned. Arthur couldn't help the way his mouth turned up too.
FANDOM: Merlin (BBC TV Series)
SPOILERS: S2, episode 1
RATING: G
SUMMARY: In the aftermath of Sigan's curse, Arthur uses his brain.
NOTES: Never thought I'd ever write Merlin fic. I do wish my brain would stop surprising me with bunnies.
___________________
Arthur was not a fool.
He would be the first to admit he prefered action to philosophy, but that didn't mean he didn't occasionally stop and think about things.
Several things about the past few days had been making him pause, suspicious. And, of course, the cause of that suspicion was the very same thing every time: Merlin. The clown of a manservant seemed to draw chaos like horse muck draws flies.
And yet...
And yet, in the end, everything was always resolved, and Merlin was there too.
That was where the problem was arising. Arthur could clearly remember the last few days: idiot manservant doing idiot things and getting worse by the day, to the point of tussling with new and notably less cheeky manservant, and - most importantly - ending up locked in the cells to calm down.
No one had bothered to explain why the skinny scarecrow was hovering behind Arthur's father when he came around, or why he had looked quite so relieved, even if he had tried to hide it. He still had no idea about stealth, Arthur remembered. Emotions all over his face. He probably couldn't keep a secret to save his life.
That was two nights ago, and now, the silly oaf was sitting in front of the fire, determinedly buffing the muck off Arthur's boots onto a ragged piece of cloth. Arthur loudly and deliberately dropped his gauntlet onto the table. His lips twitched as the servant almost jumped to his feet in fright.
"Merlin, Merlin, Merlin," he sighed, approaching the servant. "What are we going to do with you?"
The bright devil-may-care grin flashed across the boy's face. "Leave me to get on with my work and retire quietly for the night?"
That was what confused Arthur even more. It confused his father too. This insolent pup of a commoner came in and spoke to them like that, both of them, King and Prince. He treated them exactly as he treated everyone else, and as much as they showed their irritation, Arthur suspected that neither of them really minded. A novelty, perhaps. His father certainly took great delight in making sure the stocks were well-supplied with the ripest of vegetables.
"I think that's hoping for too much," Arthur replied, spreading his arms. "Up you get."
Merlin rolled his eyes expressively, but obeyed. The heavy plates were removed quickly, followed by the mail. After the first debacle, he'd actually gotten rather good at removing the armour, even if Arthur would never admit that out loud.
As soon as he was liberated, Arthur sprawled into the seat. "Tell me something, Merlin," he said, stretching out his legs towards the fire. "Why is it that wherever trouble happens, you manage to be there?"
Merlin shrugged as he hoisted the breastplate onto its stand. "Luck?" he offered without turning.
"Luck..." Arthur echoed.
Merlin turned and grinned. "It's usually other people's trouble," he said. "I think that's lucky for me."
Arthur snorted to smother a laugh. "You enjoy it, then?" he said dryly. "The life-threatening danger? Those sorcerers with their mad plans to bring down Camelot around our ears?"
Merlin's expression flickered, somewhere between amused and pained. "Well, I don't exactly enjoy it," he muttered. "It just sort of happens, and I sort of happen to be there." The grin returned, as if it had never gone. "If I sort of happen to survive, that's when I enjoy it."
Arthur rubbed his cheek with one finger thoughtfully. "I heard a strange thing," he said. "One of the survivors happened to notice that only one person was left conscious in the courtyard when that Sigan man was defeated."
"Oh?" Merlin sat back down by the muddy boots.
"Oh?" Arthur echoed. "Is that it?"
Merlin shrugged and picked up a boot. "Should I be more excited?"
"Well, given that person was meant to be locked up in one of the most secure prison cells in Camelot, you might at least act a bit surprised," Arthur retorted.
"Ah." The boy fidgetted uncomfortably.
Arthur snorted. "Yes. Ah." He leaned forward and rapped Merlin on the top of his head. "I don't suppose you have some clever explanation about how you managed to get out of the cell without any keys and into the courtyard when all the doors were sealed?"
"Um."
"You know, as far as your silly excuses go, 'um' is one of the worse ones," Arthur said.
"Well..."
"Although, that comes in a close second."
Merlin shot him a wounded look. Sometimes, the idiot boy reminded him of a puppy. He knew Morgana would view that description as soft and cuddly with big eyes that created an overwhelming urge to feed him. In his mind, it meant oversized ears, a tendency to drool and ruin perfectly good boots. And loyal, he supposed. The affair with the scheming new servant had proved that.
"It's... like this..." Merlin said carefully, as if he were choosing his words.
Arthur nudged him with his foot. "Like this?" he prompted.
"Sigan was breaking the buildings apart." Merlin stared determinedly at the boot in his lap, as if that was providing him with the answer. "The walls around the prison door cracked."
"Around the door?"
Merlin looked up and smiled his innocent, happy smile. "Yes! All around the doors. I couldn't have asked for better."
"I suppose that does make sense," Arthur said, feigning deep contemplation. "Walls. Cracking."
He didn't hear the sigh, but he saw Merlin's shoulders sag with relief.
"Although," he continued, watching the tension return, "I do wonder how the prison door ended up halfway down the corridor in a crumpled heap."
"Er..."
"Let me guess?" he said, watching Merlin's expression. "I suppose the force of those cracking walls made it burst out of its frame and fly into the wall twenty feet away?"
Merlin's eyes lit up. "Exactly! Cracking walls! Force!" He held up an emphatic finger. "It was amazing I wasn't crushed!"
"Amazing." Arthur looked him full in the face. "Especially since there isn't a single crack anywhere on that wing of the castle at all."
Merlin went white, clutching the boot in his lap.
Arthur took pity on the silly creature then. "But, I suppose Cedric really didn't like you at all," he said. "Maybe he wanted to get rid of you once and for all." Merlin nodded desperately. "Mind you, he did make an awful job of it."
Merlin giggled. "That's what you get for hiring a thief to work in your bedroom," he said.
Arthur swatted the back of Merlin's head sharply. "If you had been at least a little more capable, I wouldn't have felt the need to."
Merlin shot him a sunny grin. "It made you appreciate me more," he said. Arthur gave him a dismissive look. "Well, it did! After all, I'm not a deranged sorcerer trying to bring down Camelot, am I?" His eyes danced. "If you'd listened to me, you'd have less bruises, no dents in your armour and no need for a new decorator."
"You," Arthur said, "have a completely inappropriate sense of humour."
Merlin made a face at him. "Could be worse," he said. He took a breath, then blurted out, "I could admit I'm a powerful sorcerer in league with a dragon that lives under Camelot, trying to bring about your great and amazing destiny."
"Yes," Arthur said slowly. "You could be."
They stared at each other for a moment. Arthur could see sweat dotting Merlin's pale forehead, and he wondered if his servant really thought he was such a blind idiot. Too many coincidences, near misses, and strange things happened around them both.
"That's ridiculous," Merlin croaked.
Arthur snorted and swatted him on the head again. "I know it is," he said.
The relief in Merlin's face was heart-wrenching. Arthur watched him duck his head, and knew that he had said the right thing. Sometimes, things were best left alone. They both survived, more often than they should. He knew his father wouldn't let him even get that far in the explanation before an execution was called for. Best left alone. If things changed, they changed, but now, things were... well, they were all right. Even tolerable, when he kept his blabbering mouth shut.
"My boots are still muddy," he pointed out. "You have work to do."
"Yes, Sire," Merlin said, and that quick flash of a smile returned. Arthur couldn't help the way his mouth turned up too.