Day 2: Of Knights and Snowball Fights
Title: Of Knights and Snowball Fights
Characters: Arthur, Merlin, Sir Leon, Gawain, Assorted Knights, Arthur/Merlin if you squint (and I definitely do)
Rating: PG-13 (there may be a bad joke, otherwise G)
Disclaimer: Alas, I do not own Merlin BBC or the characters. I'm just playing in Shine's sandbox.
Prompt: Day 02: Magic, Knights and Snowball fights! - someone's sword stuck in the ice,
It’s only a few days before Midwinter, and the entire castle is frantically preparing for the days of feasting. Of course, holidays are no excuse for laziness and Arthur can be found in the courtyard, busy training his men.
Last night, the snow came down heavily, and today, everything is covered in a thick layer of the stuff. It’s the kind of snow that packs, unlike the dry version, and the knights have tramped down their practice area. Leon and Gawain are dueling in the center, while the others look on. Arthur stands to the side, arms folded, adding critique and shouted instructions (and the occasional curses). They’re doing alright, but the fight lacks edge. All the men are a bit silly with the festive air, and instead of a tough training match, it’s morphed into a playful exchange of blows and taunts, and Arthur allows it, amused himself.
It’s going along fine, each man holding his own, until suddenly Gawain slips on slippery packed snow, and his sword veers mid-swing to bury itself in the snow bank. Leon backs off to let him retrieve it, laughing with the onlookers, and Gawain gets up to pull it free. He wraps a hand and yanks, but it doesn’t move. Frowning, he grips more firmly and tugs on it repeatedly. Still, it doesn’t budge. There’s some snickers now, changing to outright guffaws as he uses two hands, braces his feet, and pulls.
The sword doesn’t move, but he loses his balance and falls flat on his back, wet seeping into his clothes through his cloak and chainmail.
Arthur grins wickedly. “Sword too much for you to handle?” he says sweetly.
Gawain sits up and glares at him for a moment, red-faced with embarrassment.
“Tell me, do you always get your sword stuck?” Arthur teases.
Gawain flushes even more looking down, playing with his hands for a moment, before glancing back up. “Is that why the ladies don’t like you, Your Majesty?” he asks, pulling his arm back and chucking the snowball he’s been hiding before Arthur can retort.
Smack! The wet snow hits Arthur full in his surprised face. Slowly, ever so slowly he reaches up to wipe off the dripping snow. He calmly looks right at Gawain. “Sir Knight, I do believe,” he says, bending down, “this means war!” He launches snow of his own at the man, but Gawain dodges to the side, and it hits Leon instead. The man stands there with a look between surprise and affront, before he grins and retaliates with snowballs of his own.
It all degrades into a wet, snowy mess, as they all get involved into what’s become a massive free-for-all in Camelot’s courtyard, Arthur right in the middle of it.
It’s not long before he spots Merlin crossing through the other side of the yard, no doubt on his way between duties. An impish grin spreads over his face as he carefully forms a snowball and sneaks up into range.
Smack!
Merlin freezes and turns around slowly to glare in the face of Arthur’s blinding grin.
“You’ve got snow dripping off your head,” Arthur informs him helpfully.
Merlin just looks at him for a long moment, before sighing. “You asked for it,” he declares finally, and runs at Arthur, scooping up snow as he goes.
Arthur splutters as snow is stuffed down the back of his shirt. “You’re supposed to use your magic to help me!” he complains to a now-smug Merlin who’s danced away towards the rest of the fighters.
Merlin sighs heavily put upon. “Oh fine. Who are we obliterating?” His lips twitch, a smile threatening to break through his weary façade.
Arthur just grins.
Characters: Arthur, Merlin, Sir Leon, Gawain, Assorted Knights, Arthur/Merlin if you squint (and I definitely do)
Rating: PG-13 (there may be a bad joke, otherwise G)
Disclaimer: Alas, I do not own Merlin BBC or the characters. I'm just playing in Shine's sandbox.
Prompt: Day 02: Magic, Knights and Snowball fights! - someone's sword stuck in the ice,
It’s only a few days before Midwinter, and the entire castle is frantically preparing for the days of feasting. Of course, holidays are no excuse for laziness and Arthur can be found in the courtyard, busy training his men.
Last night, the snow came down heavily, and today, everything is covered in a thick layer of the stuff. It’s the kind of snow that packs, unlike the dry version, and the knights have tramped down their practice area. Leon and Gawain are dueling in the center, while the others look on. Arthur stands to the side, arms folded, adding critique and shouted instructions (and the occasional curses). They’re doing alright, but the fight lacks edge. All the men are a bit silly with the festive air, and instead of a tough training match, it’s morphed into a playful exchange of blows and taunts, and Arthur allows it, amused himself.
It’s going along fine, each man holding his own, until suddenly Gawain slips on slippery packed snow, and his sword veers mid-swing to bury itself in the snow bank. Leon backs off to let him retrieve it, laughing with the onlookers, and Gawain gets up to pull it free. He wraps a hand and yanks, but it doesn’t move. Frowning, he grips more firmly and tugs on it repeatedly. Still, it doesn’t budge. There’s some snickers now, changing to outright guffaws as he uses two hands, braces his feet, and pulls.
The sword doesn’t move, but he loses his balance and falls flat on his back, wet seeping into his clothes through his cloak and chainmail.
Arthur grins wickedly. “Sword too much for you to handle?” he says sweetly.
Gawain sits up and glares at him for a moment, red-faced with embarrassment.
“Tell me, do you always get your sword stuck?” Arthur teases.
Gawain flushes even more looking down, playing with his hands for a moment, before glancing back up. “Is that why the ladies don’t like you, Your Majesty?” he asks, pulling his arm back and chucking the snowball he’s been hiding before Arthur can retort.
Smack! The wet snow hits Arthur full in his surprised face. Slowly, ever so slowly he reaches up to wipe off the dripping snow. He calmly looks right at Gawain. “Sir Knight, I do believe,” he says, bending down, “this means war!” He launches snow of his own at the man, but Gawain dodges to the side, and it hits Leon instead. The man stands there with a look between surprise and affront, before he grins and retaliates with snowballs of his own.
It all degrades into a wet, snowy mess, as they all get involved into what’s become a massive free-for-all in Camelot’s courtyard, Arthur right in the middle of it.
It’s not long before he spots Merlin crossing through the other side of the yard, no doubt on his way between duties. An impish grin spreads over his face as he carefully forms a snowball and sneaks up into range.
Smack!
Merlin freezes and turns around slowly to glare in the face of Arthur’s blinding grin.
“You’ve got snow dripping off your head,” Arthur informs him helpfully.
Merlin just looks at him for a long moment, before sighing. “You asked for it,” he declares finally, and runs at Arthur, scooping up snow as he goes.
Arthur splutters as snow is stuffed down the back of his shirt. “You’re supposed to use your magic to help me!” he complains to a now-smug Merlin who’s danced away towards the rest of the fighters.
Merlin sighs heavily put upon. “Oh fine. Who are we obliterating?” His lips twitch, a smile threatening to break through his weary façade.
Arthur just grins.