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A/N: What if Arthur was had a artistic talent?


Drawings Of A Pendragon

"Bloody Royal Prat!"

A certain raven haired warlock cursed out loud as he launched into another fit of sneezing.

Blinking away the tears brought on by the attack and pinching the bridge of his nose to calm himself, Merlin surveyed the room once more. The blonde prat seemed to have gotten bored with having him cleaning the stables or placing him in the stocks, and was now punishing him by making him clean his living quarters. Thinking that it was quite the lenient punishment, the manservant launched himself into the task with a smirk. However his confidence was thrown back into his face, once he began the chore.

'Where does the dust come from?' The young sorcerer thought bewildered.

Even though the prince's room was cleaned regularly and passed through the chambermaids' meticulous cleaning regime monthly, it still somehow managed to accumulate the level of dust of an abandoned cellar. Idly the raven entertained himself with the theory that the room was cursed with the intention to give the occupant severe respiratory ailment and thus killing the resident with phlegm.

'Effective, but the prince is everywhere but his room.' The warlock considered, 'Therefore redundant.'

"Just like cleaning it." He muttered grudgingly.

Sighing Merlin went back to the task at hand. He had been rearranging the clothes in the Princes wardrobe, and had nearly completed said task. However when he was folding the clothes on the bottom shelf, he noticed something. The shelf had a small hole, just enough to fit an average finger in, and when the raven tapped the wood, a hollow sound was echoed in return.

Curiosity besting him, Merlin cleared the clothes on the shelf and placed his finger in the opening. Gently and slowly lifting the wood up, the warlock had discovered a secret compartment. Completely removing the wooden plank, the manservant, found that the hidden section didn't contain any valuable such as, gold or precious stones, but a collection of parchment, bound by an old black ribbon.

The cover was blank and from the yellowing of the parchment, the sorcerer guessed it was quite old. Another thing that caught the raven's attention was that the compartment was comparatively less dusty, than the rest of the room. Wondering why the Prince would hide away an object such as this Merlin tenderly lifted it out from it hiding place and placed it in his lap.

Cautiously turning the cover page he was surprised at the content. It wasn't a collection of letters or documents of importance, which was most likely to be the reason for secrecy of their existence.

They were sketches.

The drawings were done only in charcoal, and at bottom of the rough draft was the artist signature and date. The signature was consisted only of two initials.

'A.P'

Merlin blinked in realisation and his jaw went slack at thought, 'Arthur Pendragon.'


The first sketch was done crudely but Merlin could make it out, a peasant woman. She was walking through the market place, a basket in one hand and a child on her hip. Looking at the date, and doing a quick mental calculation, the raven realized that the blonde prince had only been ten at the time. The rough draft was quite impressive, especially now that the warlock knew the creator's age.

The second draft had been done three years after the first drawing and showed improvement in the artist's work. The illustration depicted, a group of teenagers playing in the field on a summers day. The picture was more detailed and it showed the carefree faces of the youngsters as they ran around in the grass. These two were followed with a number of rough first attempts of peasant families doing day to day chores and committing family acts. Such as, mothers kissing their children, fathers smiling with pride when their sons achieved something, Brothers pulling their sisters pigtails etc.

The next couple of drawings, showed further improvement in the skill and portrayed, knights battling each other in the training area, camping and laughing with each other. Looking at the date, Merlin calculated that the prince had been fifteen at the time. The blonde had talent, and the gaps were likely due to the prince not having time to complete the picture, since most of his time was filled with lessons, training or duties and responsibilities that needed to be fulfilled.

Turning the page, Merlin felt his throat close and tears prick his eyes. The illustration showed the royal couple, the King Uther and his Queen Ygraine. The Queen was seated on chair with The King standing beside her, a gentle smile on his face. The raven could tell that a lot of time had been taken over the creation of this picture for, the proportions were accurate, shading was perfect and the details of the clothes, furniture, and background were done meticulously. However what made the raven's heart tug painfully, was that the place where the features of the departed Queen's face were suppose to be, was left blank. Her hair, body, dress and crown had been drawn with painstaking care, but her face was empty.

Looking at the date made Merlin's gut twist into a throbbing knot.

It was dated on Arthur's eighteenth birthday.

x

Swallowing the emotions and sending a quick prayer to his mother, the raven turned the pages. The illustrations went into detailed candid shots of Gaius brewing a new batch of medicine, Agravaine working at his desk, Morgana smelling a bunch of flowers and laughing. They didn't have much of a time lag of each other and parchment wasn't as yellow in comparison to the earlier ones. The next few drawings were filled with rough drafts of Gwen, showing her working or chatting with another maid.

Something inside the warlock burned, at the amount of attention paid to the woman. She was the same level as him, but the prince didn't even look his way. However the seeds of envy were destroyed, when he looked at the latest illustrations.

Merlin felt the blood creep into face, when he saw himself on the paper. It was a profile of himself laughing back at him. Touching the parchment lightly, just to make sure it wasn't a mirror, the raven felt himself flush. Turning the page, he was greeted with another picture of himself, this time polishing the armour and the next couple of drawings were depicting him doing various chores. The warlock felt a flutter of happiness, when he compared the illustrations of himself to that of Gwen's. They were more detailed and more refined, hinting that the prince spent more time on him than on the maid.

Looking down at the date, the raven learnt that these were completed only days ago. Thinking for a moment, Merlin realised that the Prince drew from memory and not by looking at a person. Blushing again at comprehension, that the Prince was extremely observant and could recall minute details, such as the stain on the bottom of his shirt, the warlock quickly and carefully placed the booklet back into its hiding place.

The manservant had managed to restore the clothes on top of the secret compartment shelf, just in time, for minutes later the door opened and in walked the creator of the work he just saw. For the first time the sorcerer felt and knew that there was affection in those striking blue eyes when they gazed over him. Smiling to himself and feeling a small warm sensation flutter within him, Merlin grinned outwardly when he heard an exasperated but amused voice tease,

"Honestly Merlin, I think you made the clutter worse than before."


A/N: There we go... I would greatly appreciate feed back on this piece, so please drop in a word (or words)... Constructive criticism, questions, suggestions, opinions, comments, corrections etc...