A Study of Scarlet
Title: A Study of Scarlet
Fandom: Merlin
Verse: The Pendragon Syndicate
Warnings: None
Word Count: 1243
Summary: Merlin studies the Pendragon family.
Status: Complete- Unbeta'd
Disclaimer can be found on the Master Post
There were two Arthurs.
They were both clever, charming, and gorgeous, and they had a terrible talent for switching places at a moment’s notice without any warning at all.
Merlin didn’t like the first Arthur. He could pinpoint each and every bad day around this Arthur, because he learned that the fate of his emotional sanity rested solely on whether or not a third party was in the room. Public Arthur stood tall and confident. He moved through a room like a force of nature, turning heads and inspiring whispered conversations where ever he went. He always expected his needs to be met five minutes ago, and when he didn’t get what he wanted he could throw a fit of epic proportions that only a privileged adult could ever achieve. This Arthur wasn’t too fond of Merlin either. There were always choice words whenever Merlin did anything wrong or embarrassing, which seemed to be all the time, and if it weren’t for the other Arthur he probably would have done something violent after the fifth cup of coffee dumped down his shirt.
Other Arthur wasn’t entirely different, of course. He was still proud, and walked with the knowledge that he was important, but he was quieter and patient. When he ranted or yelled over anything Merlin felt a trust in the moment that Public Arthur never afforded anyone. This Arthur was the one who sat in a cathedral attic for hours in silence thinking about things Merlin was too polite to ask about. He found himself looking forward to the moments when Arthur felt at peace. Since his new “job” required him to be around the man for long hours, if not all day, these were the only times Merlin didn’t half regret saving him at all. He could see great things in this Arthur, and it almost hurt some days knowing that Merlin had lied to him, was always lying to him, and that one day if everything went well he was going to tear Arthur’s entire life apart. In the silent moments before sleep Merlin wondered if he would have the strength to do it to the kind man he was slowly becoming friends with.
Merlin would never try to figure out which of the two was the real Arthur, either. If given a bit of thought, and he tended to give it considerable thought, neither Arthur could survive on his own without the other lingering in the background to balance him out. Other Arthur wouldn’t have the conviction to do what had to be done, and Public Arthur would be even worse than Uther.
Unfortunately this didn’t stop Merlin from developing a terrible urge to drop Arthur into the sewers whenever the man made him stamp a week’s worth of papers or collect his dirty underwear to wash. Merlin was certain being Arthur’s dogsbody wasn’t meant to have been in his job description, but what was he going to do? Complain to Uther? Bloody unlikely.
While Merlin had plenty of opportunities to study Arthur, both good and really really bad, Uther was a different story altogether. Apparently he’d gotten obscenely lucky that first week, because it was a rare thing the family got together at all, much less long enough for him to gather any useful information. Since then he’d seen Uther only once, and that was at a glimpse out of a window. Father and son seemed distant at best, although speak one word in opposition and they would stand together to form the most terrifying team since the Emperor and Darth Vader. Best not to think about that too hard.
Uther could never be just a businessman, that much was obvious from the beginning. He exuded so much power that he commanded the attention of everyone around him without so much as uttering a word. He was the one man Merlin knew of that even Arthur bent for, whether he wanted to or not. Part of it was the ruthless way Uther ran the city. Merlin had no hard evidence to present, but the signs were everywhere not that he had the chance to see them. One day there would be rumors about a murder that would set the bodyguard’s mouths in a hard line. The next day Merlin would hear someone whisper to Arthur “the night has been called” and pretty soon people stopped looking so angry. He didn’t need a translator to figure it out. Uther was a very territorial man, and God help anyone who even thought of encroaching upon that.
The second part was the sheer loyalty displayed by the people on his payroll. Most of the bodyguards didn’t wear the hopeless look of the blackmailed, or the careless expression of men working just for a paycheck. Merlin asked once, during one of Other Arthur’s moments, and many of them were either sons or brothers of men who Uther had blessed. They were given the chance to educate themselves and work for the person who single-handedly rose their social standing. A few were boys that Uther practically raised himself, so with everything together he was surrounded by people who owed him a life debt. It was a very effective strategy.
Merlin didn’t know much more that that, and most of his information came from watching the bodyguards and staff in the Pendragon household. He was almost hesitant to try and get closer than he already was because every path he could see ended in abysmal failure at best, deadly torture at worst. Sure, it seemed a little dramatic to think that way, but he was honestly getting the impression that there was a really damned good reason Uther’s family have survived this long. It was a miracle Arthur was SO well-adjusted.
Unfortunately he was going to have to settle in for the long haul. As he knew before: Uther was ultimately untouchable. The only person who seemed to ever get beneath Uther’s exterior, and MErlin only saw this once himself but Arthur was more than willing to brood about it, was his beautiful niece, Morgana.
Morgana, how could he say this without sounding like he hadn’t been laid in years, was a work of art; dark and terrible art. Her parents, both sadly deceased so he couldn’t actually confirm this fact, must have been sculpted directly from God himself in order to create this lovely vision of desire. She was also way too aware of this fact. The woman deliberately dressed to draw mindless stares, and refused to acknowledge a single one. When she did talk to someone she displayed an intelligence just as dangerous as he looks. The only way Merlin knows she’s not just like her Uncle is how she acts around Arthur.
Morgana was also one of the privileged few to know Other Arthur, but she certainly didn’t mind trading lighthearted barbs with Public Arthur either. She matched him in wit and the one time Merlin pointed that out Arthur had duct taped his mouth shut in irritation. Personally he was glad he hadn’t gotten the opportunity to talk to her yet. She was intimidating in so many different ways. He had a sneaking suspicion she would ear him alive just to see what he would do, and Arthur wouldn’t stop her.
By now Merlin had come to only one sure fire conclusion: One way or another this family was going to be the end of him.
Fandom: Merlin
Verse: The Pendragon Syndicate
Warnings: None
Word Count: 1243
Summary: Merlin studies the Pendragon family.
Status: Complete- Unbeta'd
Disclaimer can be found on the Master Post
There were two Arthurs.
They were both clever, charming, and gorgeous, and they had a terrible talent for switching places at a moment’s notice without any warning at all.
Merlin didn’t like the first Arthur. He could pinpoint each and every bad day around this Arthur, because he learned that the fate of his emotional sanity rested solely on whether or not a third party was in the room. Public Arthur stood tall and confident. He moved through a room like a force of nature, turning heads and inspiring whispered conversations where ever he went. He always expected his needs to be met five minutes ago, and when he didn’t get what he wanted he could throw a fit of epic proportions that only a privileged adult could ever achieve. This Arthur wasn’t too fond of Merlin either. There were always choice words whenever Merlin did anything wrong or embarrassing, which seemed to be all the time, and if it weren’t for the other Arthur he probably would have done something violent after the fifth cup of coffee dumped down his shirt.
Other Arthur wasn’t entirely different, of course. He was still proud, and walked with the knowledge that he was important, but he was quieter and patient. When he ranted or yelled over anything Merlin felt a trust in the moment that Public Arthur never afforded anyone. This Arthur was the one who sat in a cathedral attic for hours in silence thinking about things Merlin was too polite to ask about. He found himself looking forward to the moments when Arthur felt at peace. Since his new “job” required him to be around the man for long hours, if not all day, these were the only times Merlin didn’t half regret saving him at all. He could see great things in this Arthur, and it almost hurt some days knowing that Merlin had lied to him, was always lying to him, and that one day if everything went well he was going to tear Arthur’s entire life apart. In the silent moments before sleep Merlin wondered if he would have the strength to do it to the kind man he was slowly becoming friends with.
Merlin would never try to figure out which of the two was the real Arthur, either. If given a bit of thought, and he tended to give it considerable thought, neither Arthur could survive on his own without the other lingering in the background to balance him out. Other Arthur wouldn’t have the conviction to do what had to be done, and Public Arthur would be even worse than Uther.
Unfortunately this didn’t stop Merlin from developing a terrible urge to drop Arthur into the sewers whenever the man made him stamp a week’s worth of papers or collect his dirty underwear to wash. Merlin was certain being Arthur’s dogsbody wasn’t meant to have been in his job description, but what was he going to do? Complain to Uther? Bloody unlikely.
While Merlin had plenty of opportunities to study Arthur, both good and really really bad, Uther was a different story altogether. Apparently he’d gotten obscenely lucky that first week, because it was a rare thing the family got together at all, much less long enough for him to gather any useful information. Since then he’d seen Uther only once, and that was at a glimpse out of a window. Father and son seemed distant at best, although speak one word in opposition and they would stand together to form the most terrifying team since the Emperor and Darth Vader. Best not to think about that too hard.
Uther could never be just a businessman, that much was obvious from the beginning. He exuded so much power that he commanded the attention of everyone around him without so much as uttering a word. He was the one man Merlin knew of that even Arthur bent for, whether he wanted to or not. Part of it was the ruthless way Uther ran the city. Merlin had no hard evidence to present, but the signs were everywhere not that he had the chance to see them. One day there would be rumors about a murder that would set the bodyguard’s mouths in a hard line. The next day Merlin would hear someone whisper to Arthur “the night has been called” and pretty soon people stopped looking so angry. He didn’t need a translator to figure it out. Uther was a very territorial man, and God help anyone who even thought of encroaching upon that.
The second part was the sheer loyalty displayed by the people on his payroll. Most of the bodyguards didn’t wear the hopeless look of the blackmailed, or the careless expression of men working just for a paycheck. Merlin asked once, during one of Other Arthur’s moments, and many of them were either sons or brothers of men who Uther had blessed. They were given the chance to educate themselves and work for the person who single-handedly rose their social standing. A few were boys that Uther practically raised himself, so with everything together he was surrounded by people who owed him a life debt. It was a very effective strategy.
Merlin didn’t know much more that that, and most of his information came from watching the bodyguards and staff in the Pendragon household. He was almost hesitant to try and get closer than he already was because every path he could see ended in abysmal failure at best, deadly torture at worst. Sure, it seemed a little dramatic to think that way, but he was honestly getting the impression that there was a really damned good reason Uther’s family have survived this long. It was a miracle Arthur was SO well-adjusted.
Unfortunately he was going to have to settle in for the long haul. As he knew before: Uther was ultimately untouchable. The only person who seemed to ever get beneath Uther’s exterior, and MErlin only saw this once himself but Arthur was more than willing to brood about it, was his beautiful niece, Morgana.
Morgana, how could he say this without sounding like he hadn’t been laid in years, was a work of art; dark and terrible art. Her parents, both sadly deceased so he couldn’t actually confirm this fact, must have been sculpted directly from God himself in order to create this lovely vision of desire. She was also way too aware of this fact. The woman deliberately dressed to draw mindless stares, and refused to acknowledge a single one. When she did talk to someone she displayed an intelligence just as dangerous as he looks. The only way Merlin knows she’s not just like her Uncle is how she acts around Arthur.
Morgana was also one of the privileged few to know Other Arthur, but she certainly didn’t mind trading lighthearted barbs with Public Arthur either. She matched him in wit and the one time Merlin pointed that out Arthur had duct taped his mouth shut in irritation. Personally he was glad he hadn’t gotten the opportunity to talk to her yet. She was intimidating in so many different ways. He had a sneaking suspicion she would ear him alive just to see what he would do, and Arthur wouldn’t stop her.
By now Merlin had come to only one sure fire conclusion: One way or another this family was going to be the end of him.