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epiphanyx7Title: Dream With Everything, part 1/14
Length: Chaptered (2015 words this part)
Rating: not for children
Summary: AU. Arthur is a pretty princess. No. Srsly.
Warnings: Language, Spoilers for Episode 1x01 The Dragon's Call.
Notes: I don't know if I'll ever finish this, so I may as well post it, right? Also. Ew. I just realized I accidentally committed het - which, yes, is the only logical conclusion in a story like this. However. It weirds me out a bit. Title from the song "This One's For the Girls" by Martina McBride.
1. The Dragon's Call.
When he sees a servant being bullied, Merlin steps in because his mother raised him to know right from wrong, and no filthy blond-haired brat is going to harass a peasant in front of him, not even if that brat happens to be of noble blood. And this noble, a young boy barely out of short pants, backed up by a few of the knights who are laughing as if they found the whole situation funny, just makes Merlin's head spin and his blood boil.
"You've had your fun, my friend." He says, because the servant looks cowed and miserable. It says something about the sort of place Camelot is, if the servants are afraid to be defended by a stranger against one of their own.
"Do I know you?" The scruffy, childish-looking boy demands. He's soft-looking, probably no older than fourteen, not yet enough of a man to shave. He's wearing a cap, too, which is unusual in this heat.
"Uh, I'm Merlin," He says, trying to be friendly. (He knows it's not going to end well. It never does, with nobles, but the effort usually means he won't get beaten nearly as badly.)
"So, I don't know you." The child retorts, fury distorting his features.
"No--"
"Yet, you called me friend," He continues, barreling through Merlin's explanation.
"That -- was my mistake." Merlin replies, smiling tensely and hating this stupid child, spoiled noble who thinks that Camelot is his own playground.
"Yes, I think so."
"Yeah, I'd never have a friend who can be such an ass," Merlin adds, turning to walk away.
"Or I one who could be so stupid," The child responds, advancing towards Merlin even though Merlin had more than a few inches of height on the younger boy. "Tell me, Merlin, do you know how to walk on your knees?"
"No ---"
"Would you like me to help you?"
Things go straight downhill from there, because Merlin sure as hell won't use magic in public, not after he just saw a man executed - murdered - for that same 'crime', and he doesn't think that it's very sporting to wail on a younger, smaller child just because he's in the right. Regardless, the boy is strong, even if his features are soft and delicate. He twists Merlin's arm behind his back, forcing him down onto his knees, and things take a turn for the worse when the boy leans forward and whispers, "I could have you put in jail for that,"
"What--" Merlin asks, and then the kid is letting him go, stepping back. Merlin scrambles to his feet, and he sees a tall, dark-haired young man enter the square.
"What's going on here?" The dark-haired man demands, a dark scowl on his face, one hand on the pommel of his sword.
"Morgan," The blond kid says, a guilty look on his face. "We were just - uh -- having some fun."
"Who are you," Morgan (probably a lord of some sort, or a knight at least) turns to Merlin, his scowl deepening into something like fury. "and what are you doing here?"
"I'm Merlin," He is a lot intimidated by this man, for no reason other than the look he's being given, as if Morgan knows something about him, something Merlin would rather be kept secret. "I - um. I work with Gaius? The court physician?" It comes out sounding like a question, even though it's definitely the truth.
"Was he bothering you?" Morgan turns back to the noble brat.
"No," The brat responds, and his cheeks colour, almost as if he's embarrassed.
Merlin's shocked that the kid isn't tattling on him, demanding he be thrown into the stocks or the dungeons, but Morgan turns and looks at him, then nods. "I suppose it would be good to have the physician's apprentice around, in case you were hurt." He says. "Just be careful, Ig-- Arthur. And stay with the knights."
Arthur and his knights leave soon after, glaring at Merlin but leaving him with his trousers covered in dust, and the servant he'd saved from humiliation gone, run off somewhere before the scuffle.
What the hell kind of place is Camelot anyway, Merlin wonders.
-
In his sleep, voices whisper to him. Merlin, they say. MERLIN.
-
The first time Merlin sees the princess, she is walking down the hallway followed by her maid and a lady-in-waiting. Her hair is elaborately coiffed and pinned, arranged to expose the nape of her neck with a single, perfect coil of curls draped artfully over her shoulder. She moves gracefully, the long sleeves of her gown trailing just over the floor, and her golden cloak billows out behind her majestically. She is almost unearthly beautiful, it seems.
She walks straight ahead, her eyes not looking at a single person even as they bow and scrape and move out of her way. She walks as if she's the only person in the room, and when she turns the corner and sees Merlin, their eyes meet for a single moment.
He drops to one knee, bows his head, because it's one thing to mouth off in the courtyard and another thing to offend the princess, and Merlin likes his head on his shoulders and Gaius keeps telling him to keep out of trouble. Except, the princess doesn't walk on by, she stops in front of him, dark ruby-red slippers with golden embroidery just at the edge of his vision.
"You, there," and her voice is a bit deeper than he'd expected, a lot more authoritative. "My maid seems to have dropped her handkerchief."
Merlin looks up and sees a plain white handkerchief not a few feet away, he scrambles over and returns it to the maid. She's a sweet-looking girl with dark skin and dark hair, and she smiles at him shyly.
"My lady-in-waiting seems to have dropped her embroidery," the princess says pointedly, and stands and watches as Merlin scrambles around, attempting to find the tiny needle and the missing piece of gold thread.
"Oh, dear," she says, knocking it out of his hand when he tries to return it. Needles and thread spill over the hallway, and Merlin looks up at her, furious. She smiles, satisfied, and then she gestures for the maid to help him retrieve them.
"That - was a very brave thing you did," The maid whispers at him as they carefully pick up the needles. "Yesterday - with. I mean, you don't seem the type to be into unnecessary heroics - not that it was unnecessary, and not that you aren't brave - because you are, obviously, what you did yesterday was extraordinary, I just wanted to say. Um. I'm - Guinevere. You can call me Gwen."
"I'm Merlin," he whispers back, handing her the rest of the embroidery and letting her go on her way.
-
"How's your knee-walking coming along?" Arthur taunts when Merlin passes by him and his cronies in the marketplace.
Merlin grits his teeth and keeps walking, reminding himself that he can not afford to get into trouble.
"Oh, don't run away," Arthur groans, fake-disappointment dripping from his voice.
"From you?" Merlin responds, stopping.
Things swiftly go downhill.
"You can't address me like that," Arthur says, shocked and maybe a little amused.
Merlin pauses. He ducks his head, makes his body language as subservient as he possibly can (not very, Hunith didn't raise a coward or an idiot) and looks through his lashes at Arthur, whose eyes have suddenly gone very wide. "I'm sorry," he says, dropping his voice low and husky. "How long have you been training to be a prat, my lord?"
Some of the people around them laugh at that, and Arthur laughs as well, before he swings the mace at Merlin's head.
-
(Merlin has never even touched a mace previously. He thinks that all things concerned, a little bit of illicit, surreptitious magic-use is only evening the playing field.)
-
Arthur falls backwards, hard, and Merlin says "Do you want to give up?" He can feel the shame radiating off of Gaius in the crowd, and he knows he's going to get in a lot of trouble for this, but it's the principal of the matter.
And then Arthur is standing up, armed with a broom, and he takes Merlin out with a few well-aimed blows.
"Ow," Merlin says, knights dragging him back to his feet.
"Let him go," Arthur orders, and Merlin is surprised when they obey him - because surely Arthur's just a child? Close up, though, Arthur is almost as tall as Merlin, and only a little bit thinner, and Merlin thinks that maybe the boy is sixteen or seventeen, a young man instead of a child. "He may be an idiot, but at least he's a brave one."
"There's something about you, Merlin," Arthur says as he turns to leave. "I can't quite put my finger on it."
-
Later, much later, Merlin will think about how heavy chainmail is and how hot it must be to wear a cap all the time, and he wonders why Arthur does both. Most of the knights don't even wear chain-mail, they just put on their plates and gauntlets over their shirts for practice.
-
In the middle of the night, Merlin wakes up to a memory of Arthur pulling himself off of the ground, a long strand of dirty blond hair falling from under the cap. It had fallen forward, onto his shoulder. Something about that was familiar.
And then he discovers the giant, ferocious, incredibly batshit insane dragon living underneath the castle.
"You and Arthur have a destiny!" The dragon announces, and then it laughs and laughs and laughs.
-
At the banquet, Princess Igraine is poised and icy, beautiful like a statue and about as friendly. Lord Morgan avoids her and she avoids him, both changing directions so that they never have to speak to each other. The only person Merlin can even speak to at the stupid banquet is Gwen, and she stammers her way into a corner and ends up flushing horribly every time he looks at her for absolutely no reason.
And then a crazy witch-woman wielding a knife attempts to assassinate Igraine, and it's purely chance that leaves Merlin able to shake off the spell and yank hard on the princess's shoulder, pulling her out of the way.
Time goes back to normal speed with Merlin flat on his back, arms above his head, and the princess sprawled out on top of him, mouth slightly open and her eyes wide. They are very, very blue eyes, her blond hair is clean and falling in waves over her shoulder, spilling onto Merlin's neck as she stares, shocked, into his eyes.
There's chaos around them, Uther demanding that people do stuff about the witch's corpse, other people yelling and screaming in terror or confusion, but Merlin is fairly certain that the only thing that matters is the soft weight of Princess Igraine on top of him.
She's heavier than he thought she'd be.
She's also not moving, which is a problem, and Merlin is afraid to move his hands or even blink, because he might accidentally insult her honor and end up being executed even if he did just save her life. She has one hand fisted, pressing into the fabric of his shirt directly over his heart.
"You saved my daughter's life," Uther says, helping the princess to her feet. Merlin scrambles to his, tries to look at his own feet or Uther's feet or even Igraine's feet, but she is standing beside her father, looking between him and Merlin with a confused expression on his face.
"No--" Merlin tries to protest. Uther barrels right over him, talking about his bravery and whatnot, and all but demands that Merlin accept a reward.
"You shall be awarded a position in the royal household!" Uther says, smiling. "You shall be - Princess Igraine's footman!" And he sweeps off in a majestic swirl of his cloak, off to do kingly things, and leaves Igraine in his wake, mouth opening and closing in horror.
A footman?
Merlin doesn't even know what that is.
-
Length: Chaptered (2015 words this part)
Rating: not for children
Summary: AU. Arthur is a pretty princess. No. Srsly.
Warnings: Language, Spoilers for Episode 1x01 The Dragon's Call.
Notes: I don't know if I'll ever finish this, so I may as well post it, right? Also. Ew. I just realized I accidentally committed het - which, yes, is the only logical conclusion in a story like this. However. It weirds me out a bit. Title from the song "This One's For the Girls" by Martina McBride.
1. The Dragon's Call.
When he sees a servant being bullied, Merlin steps in because his mother raised him to know right from wrong, and no filthy blond-haired brat is going to harass a peasant in front of him, not even if that brat happens to be of noble blood. And this noble, a young boy barely out of short pants, backed up by a few of the knights who are laughing as if they found the whole situation funny, just makes Merlin's head spin and his blood boil.
"You've had your fun, my friend." He says, because the servant looks cowed and miserable. It says something about the sort of place Camelot is, if the servants are afraid to be defended by a stranger against one of their own.
"Do I know you?" The scruffy, childish-looking boy demands. He's soft-looking, probably no older than fourteen, not yet enough of a man to shave. He's wearing a cap, too, which is unusual in this heat.
"Uh, I'm Merlin," He says, trying to be friendly. (He knows it's not going to end well. It never does, with nobles, but the effort usually means he won't get beaten nearly as badly.)
"So, I don't know you." The child retorts, fury distorting his features.
"No--"
"Yet, you called me friend," He continues, barreling through Merlin's explanation.
"That -- was my mistake." Merlin replies, smiling tensely and hating this stupid child, spoiled noble who thinks that Camelot is his own playground.
"Yes, I think so."
"Yeah, I'd never have a friend who can be such an ass," Merlin adds, turning to walk away.
"Or I one who could be so stupid," The child responds, advancing towards Merlin even though Merlin had more than a few inches of height on the younger boy. "Tell me, Merlin, do you know how to walk on your knees?"
"No ---"
"Would you like me to help you?"
Things go straight downhill from there, because Merlin sure as hell won't use magic in public, not after he just saw a man executed - murdered - for that same 'crime', and he doesn't think that it's very sporting to wail on a younger, smaller child just because he's in the right. Regardless, the boy is strong, even if his features are soft and delicate. He twists Merlin's arm behind his back, forcing him down onto his knees, and things take a turn for the worse when the boy leans forward and whispers, "I could have you put in jail for that,"
"What--" Merlin asks, and then the kid is letting him go, stepping back. Merlin scrambles to his feet, and he sees a tall, dark-haired young man enter the square.
"What's going on here?" The dark-haired man demands, a dark scowl on his face, one hand on the pommel of his sword.
"Morgan," The blond kid says, a guilty look on his face. "We were just - uh -- having some fun."
"Who are you," Morgan (probably a lord of some sort, or a knight at least) turns to Merlin, his scowl deepening into something like fury. "and what are you doing here?"
"I'm Merlin," He is a lot intimidated by this man, for no reason other than the look he's being given, as if Morgan knows something about him, something Merlin would rather be kept secret. "I - um. I work with Gaius? The court physician?" It comes out sounding like a question, even though it's definitely the truth.
"Was he bothering you?" Morgan turns back to the noble brat.
"No," The brat responds, and his cheeks colour, almost as if he's embarrassed.
Merlin's shocked that the kid isn't tattling on him, demanding he be thrown into the stocks or the dungeons, but Morgan turns and looks at him, then nods. "I suppose it would be good to have the physician's apprentice around, in case you were hurt." He says. "Just be careful, Ig-- Arthur. And stay with the knights."
Arthur and his knights leave soon after, glaring at Merlin but leaving him with his trousers covered in dust, and the servant he'd saved from humiliation gone, run off somewhere before the scuffle.
What the hell kind of place is Camelot anyway, Merlin wonders.
-
In his sleep, voices whisper to him. Merlin, they say. MERLIN.
-
The first time Merlin sees the princess, she is walking down the hallway followed by her maid and a lady-in-waiting. Her hair is elaborately coiffed and pinned, arranged to expose the nape of her neck with a single, perfect coil of curls draped artfully over her shoulder. She moves gracefully, the long sleeves of her gown trailing just over the floor, and her golden cloak billows out behind her majestically. She is almost unearthly beautiful, it seems.
She walks straight ahead, her eyes not looking at a single person even as they bow and scrape and move out of her way. She walks as if she's the only person in the room, and when she turns the corner and sees Merlin, their eyes meet for a single moment.
He drops to one knee, bows his head, because it's one thing to mouth off in the courtyard and another thing to offend the princess, and Merlin likes his head on his shoulders and Gaius keeps telling him to keep out of trouble. Except, the princess doesn't walk on by, she stops in front of him, dark ruby-red slippers with golden embroidery just at the edge of his vision.
"You, there," and her voice is a bit deeper than he'd expected, a lot more authoritative. "My maid seems to have dropped her handkerchief."
Merlin looks up and sees a plain white handkerchief not a few feet away, he scrambles over and returns it to the maid. She's a sweet-looking girl with dark skin and dark hair, and she smiles at him shyly.
"My lady-in-waiting seems to have dropped her embroidery," the princess says pointedly, and stands and watches as Merlin scrambles around, attempting to find the tiny needle and the missing piece of gold thread.
"Oh, dear," she says, knocking it out of his hand when he tries to return it. Needles and thread spill over the hallway, and Merlin looks up at her, furious. She smiles, satisfied, and then she gestures for the maid to help him retrieve them.
"That - was a very brave thing you did," The maid whispers at him as they carefully pick up the needles. "Yesterday - with. I mean, you don't seem the type to be into unnecessary heroics - not that it was unnecessary, and not that you aren't brave - because you are, obviously, what you did yesterday was extraordinary, I just wanted to say. Um. I'm - Guinevere. You can call me Gwen."
"I'm Merlin," he whispers back, handing her the rest of the embroidery and letting her go on her way.
-
"How's your knee-walking coming along?" Arthur taunts when Merlin passes by him and his cronies in the marketplace.
Merlin grits his teeth and keeps walking, reminding himself that he can not afford to get into trouble.
"Oh, don't run away," Arthur groans, fake-disappointment dripping from his voice.
"From you?" Merlin responds, stopping.
Things swiftly go downhill.
"You can't address me like that," Arthur says, shocked and maybe a little amused.
Merlin pauses. He ducks his head, makes his body language as subservient as he possibly can (not very, Hunith didn't raise a coward or an idiot) and looks through his lashes at Arthur, whose eyes have suddenly gone very wide. "I'm sorry," he says, dropping his voice low and husky. "How long have you been training to be a prat, my lord?"
Some of the people around them laugh at that, and Arthur laughs as well, before he swings the mace at Merlin's head.
-
(Merlin has never even touched a mace previously. He thinks that all things concerned, a little bit of illicit, surreptitious magic-use is only evening the playing field.)
-
Arthur falls backwards, hard, and Merlin says "Do you want to give up?" He can feel the shame radiating off of Gaius in the crowd, and he knows he's going to get in a lot of trouble for this, but it's the principal of the matter.
And then Arthur is standing up, armed with a broom, and he takes Merlin out with a few well-aimed blows.
"Ow," Merlin says, knights dragging him back to his feet.
"Let him go," Arthur orders, and Merlin is surprised when they obey him - because surely Arthur's just a child? Close up, though, Arthur is almost as tall as Merlin, and only a little bit thinner, and Merlin thinks that maybe the boy is sixteen or seventeen, a young man instead of a child. "He may be an idiot, but at least he's a brave one."
"There's something about you, Merlin," Arthur says as he turns to leave. "I can't quite put my finger on it."
-
Later, much later, Merlin will think about how heavy chainmail is and how hot it must be to wear a cap all the time, and he wonders why Arthur does both. Most of the knights don't even wear chain-mail, they just put on their plates and gauntlets over their shirts for practice.
-
In the middle of the night, Merlin wakes up to a memory of Arthur pulling himself off of the ground, a long strand of dirty blond hair falling from under the cap. It had fallen forward, onto his shoulder. Something about that was familiar.
And then he discovers the giant, ferocious, incredibly batshit insane dragon living underneath the castle.
"You and Arthur have a destiny!" The dragon announces, and then it laughs and laughs and laughs.
-
At the banquet, Princess Igraine is poised and icy, beautiful like a statue and about as friendly. Lord Morgan avoids her and she avoids him, both changing directions so that they never have to speak to each other. The only person Merlin can even speak to at the stupid banquet is Gwen, and she stammers her way into a corner and ends up flushing horribly every time he looks at her for absolutely no reason.
And then a crazy witch-woman wielding a knife attempts to assassinate Igraine, and it's purely chance that leaves Merlin able to shake off the spell and yank hard on the princess's shoulder, pulling her out of the way.
Time goes back to normal speed with Merlin flat on his back, arms above his head, and the princess sprawled out on top of him, mouth slightly open and her eyes wide. They are very, very blue eyes, her blond hair is clean and falling in waves over her shoulder, spilling onto Merlin's neck as she stares, shocked, into his eyes.
There's chaos around them, Uther demanding that people do stuff about the witch's corpse, other people yelling and screaming in terror or confusion, but Merlin is fairly certain that the only thing that matters is the soft weight of Princess Igraine on top of him.
She's heavier than he thought she'd be.
She's also not moving, which is a problem, and Merlin is afraid to move his hands or even blink, because he might accidentally insult her honor and end up being executed even if he did just save her life. She has one hand fisted, pressing into the fabric of his shirt directly over his heart.
"You saved my daughter's life," Uther says, helping the princess to her feet. Merlin scrambles to his, tries to look at his own feet or Uther's feet or even Igraine's feet, but she is standing beside her father, looking between him and Merlin with a confused expression on his face.
"No--" Merlin tries to protest. Uther barrels right over him, talking about his bravery and whatnot, and all but demands that Merlin accept a reward.
"You shall be awarded a position in the royal household!" Uther says, smiling. "You shall be - Princess Igraine's footman!" And he sweeps off in a majestic swirl of his cloak, off to do kingly things, and leaves Igraine in his wake, mouth opening and closing in horror.
A footman?
Merlin doesn't even know what that is.
-