A/N This is my first fanfic! It took a long while for me to get up the courage to do this. I've used dialog from 1.01 but changed it as much as I thought I could. I, of course, don't own Merlin or anything to do with it. If I did, it would still be going on, mwah hahaha!
It's another typically gorgeous day in Camelot, I thought, as my idiot servant nudged me awake. Or attempted to, at least. Mornings aren't my thing.
"Shall I open your curtains sire?" The man asked.
"Fine, uh . . . What's your name again?" This particular servant had been with me for ten days. Give or take a day or two. A new personal record! I wonder who's winning the bet now? I have to find a reason to fire him, and soon.
"Gavin, sire. Here's your breakfast," he replied. I could tell he was trying really hard not to roll his eyes. He must get a share of the pot. For that impudence he'll have the distinct pleasure of being my "target" later.
After dressing, I wandered out to meet a few knights for practice. Gavin trailed behind, groaning under his heavy load- the target. I smirked the entire way.
When I saw the guys, we gripped arms, chewed the fat for a bit then got down to business. "Ready for a bit of fun gents?" I joked, then turned around to face Gavin, "Where's the target?"
"There sir?" He asked. Is he blind? The guys chuckled.
"It's into the sun," I wasn't going to make it easy for him.
"It's not that bright."
Too easy. "A bit like you then," I replied. Oh yeah, it's going to be a good day. More chuckling.
"I'll put the target over there, shall I sir?"
"This'll teach him," I said in an undertone to the guys. I threw the first knife at the target while he wasn't looking.
"Hey, hang on!" He yelled, surprised.
"Don't stop there," I yelled back.
He ran off a bit, then stopped, "Here?"
"Keep moving!" I ordered back at him, and then chucked another knife in his direction. "Come on, run!" I yelled, before throwing the next knife. He really wasn't that bright. "We want moving target practice!" Then I released a fourth knife as he gasped and sputtered running one direction, then the next.
After I threw my fifth knife, he dropped the target and crouched, running along behind it. He and the target came to a stop at the feet of a boy I'd never seen before. I examined him a bit—short, dark hair and really blue eyes. He seemed to be about my height, but long-limbed and overly thin—underfed? Certainly less fortunate than the average Camelot townsman- shabby clothes, worn boots and a neckerchief? Who still wore those things?
He put a foot down on the target, bringing it to a halt. "Hey come on, that's enough," he said in a friendly manner.
"What?" I replied, not believing some peasant would dare say this to me. Who was this boy who thought he could tell me what to do?
"You've had your fun, my friend," he elaborated. Clearly he thought I was a bit slow. I just found a new object of mockery.
"Do I know you?" I tried to infuse as much scorn into my words as possible, then walked closer to this oddity. Like I would have a peasant for a friend.
"I'm Merlin," he replied, and stuck out his hand, which I ignored, of course. Hello, royalty.
"So I don't know you," he caught the disdain this time around.
"No." He dropped his hand.
"And yet you called me your 'friend.'"
"Yeah, that was my mistake," he confirmed, then shook his head.
I smirked, "I think so."
"I've never had a friend who could be such an ass," he tossed out boldly.
I ducked my head, shaking it in disbelief. This stranger, this Merlin, turned to walk away. "Or I one who could be so stupid," I said to his back. He took the bait and stopped short at this. "Tell me Merlin, do you know how to walk on your knees?"
He turned, "No." I wanted to laugh in his face at that, but would wait for a better moment. It was coming.
I moved right up into his personal space. "Would you like to be taught?" I teased.
"I wouldn't if I were you," he stated seriously. What could this scrawny peasant boy possibly do?
"Why? What are you going to do to me?" I dared. Last chance to escape, boy.
"You have no idea," he replied. That kind of sounded like a threat. A weak one.
"Be my guest," I offered, then took a step back while holding my arms out, daring him to come at me. As if. "Come on, come on. Come oooon," I taunted.
He took a step back and threw his right fist at me. Weak! I grabbed it and pulled his arm behind his back, turning him around, "I'll throw you in jail for that."
"Who do you think you are," he spat, "the king?"
"No. I'm his son, Arthur," I threw back, then gave him a tug. "Guards!" I yelled. Two came jogging over. "Take this insolent peasant to the dungeon," I instructed, and they wrestled him off in that direction. "I'm glad that's over," I said to my audience, "Now let's get back to some real fun." Some days it's really good to be the prince.
The next day I took a stroll through the market with some friends and a couple of guards. I'd heard the peasant boy spent the night in the dungeon followed by a stint in the stocks. All the worse for him, ha! Hopefully he'd learned his place.
We were joking around and generally having a good time when I saw a not-so-unfamiliar peasant boy walk by. He looked distracted, like he was on a mission. Maybe he was- I'd learned he was the court physician's new apprentice. That wasn't going to stop me though.
"How's the knee walking coming?" I threw out teasingly. He ignored me and kept walking. I gave a mock groan and said, "Oh don't run away!"
I knew that would bait him, and it worked. "From you?" He muttered without turning around.
"Oh good. I thought you were deaf as well as dumb."
"Look, I've told you you're an ass. I just didn't know you were a royal one," he mocked, turning to face me. He noticed the guards, "Oh, what are you going to do? You've got your daddy's men to protect you?"
I chuckled like we were in on the joke together, "I could take you apart in one blow." Ha, top that insolent peasant!
"I could take you apart weigh less than that," he fired back. How could that be possible? Now that cheeky boy was pushing it!
"Are you sure?" I taunted. He gave me an outraged look as he stripped off his jacket. This time I did laugh in his face. One of the guys passed me a mace, which I tossed to the upstart saying, "Here you go, big man." I didn't expect him to catch it, so I was surprised when he did- just barely. "Come on then!" I instructed, and started twirling my mace overhead. He looked intimidated when I advanced and said, "I warn you; I've been trained to kill since birth."
"Wow. And how long have you been training to be a prat?" He mocked. Apparently he wasn't intimidated after all. Odd.
I shook my head at his audacity, "You can't address me like that."
"Sorry. How long have you been training to be a prat, My Lord?"
Oh this was going to be good- he was going to pay for those insolent remarks. I quickly brought the mace up and swung it at his head. Sadly, he ducked. Quick reflexes, eh? I swung again and threw out, "Come on then Merlin, come on!" He retreated backwards and got his mace stuck in a birdcage. Not very coordinated though. I kept swinging and striking while advancing on him. He kept on ducking and retreating around pushcarts and other obstacles. He fell backwards onto a pile of sacks and dropped his mace. I laughed and said, "You're in trouble now!"
"Oh no," he said, and looked for a way out. I stood over him and swung my mace threateningly. There was no way out of this situation for him. Suddenly my mace caught on a couple of pruning hooks behind me. What the . . ? The crowd jeered. Clearly they were with the underdog here; I'm gonna let that go this time.
He got up and grabbed his mace while I untangled mine. Then we were off swinging, advancing and retreating again. Suddenly a wooden crate hit me hard in the shin. "Owwww!" I yelled. I swear it hadn't been there before. He just laughed and kept moving. That really ticked me off- this turkey wasn't so easy to catch.
Merlin ducked behind another cart. I gave another swing and got another miss, again. I stalked toward him, but missed the length of rope stretched out in my path. "Ahhh!" I yelled, as I went down into some sacks. How did I miss that?
We jumped up with our weapons, and he started advancing on me! "Do you want to give up?" He exclaimed.
"To you?" I asked, incredulous. He's got some kind of luck, for a beginner.
He repeated, "Do you want to give up?" That's when I stepped in a bucket and went down again, backwards. Since when did I lose the advantage here? The crowd cheered and he gloated until he caught sight of something in the crowd. I took advantage of his distraction and hit him across the back with a broom that was conveniently next to me. Never take your eyes off an opponent. I followed up with blows to his gut and head and he went down. I finished off with a twirl of the broom and a couple of sweeps. "Ahhhh," he grunted out painfully.
"Wait," I said, holding up my hand. "Let him go. He may be an idiot, but he's a brave one." I looked into his face and shook my head, puzzled. What made him seem so different? "There's something about you Merlin. I can't quite put my finger on it." What was with this boy? Is he hiding something or is he genuinely stupidly brave? I turned to walk away, but not before he threw me a confused glance. What was that supposed to mean? I walked off, trying to shake off the strange encounter.
The next evening was the feast and performance of the great singer, Lady Helen. She has a brilliant reputation, but I'm going for the food . . . and the girls. That, and Father ordered me to attend. If I'm lucky there may even be a food fight at the end. Oh yeah, now that's entertainment. I suppose Morgana expects me to ask her to attend it with me, but she's been so moody lately. I don't want her to drag me down.
I quickly found my fellows and we started rehashing a fight from this morning's training session. I made a jabbing gesture, then turned around when I sensed something. That's when Morgana glided into the room, wearing a maroon halter dress. It hugged her in all the right places; she held the eye of every man in the room over the age of 12 and she knew it. "Oh have mercy," I said, distracted. I ambled over to engage her in conversation.
All too soon the horns sounded, signaling my Father's arrival. I rolled my eyes and headed to my seat to listen to his introductory speech.
Harp music resonated through the hall as we took our seats and looked to the singer standing on the dais. Her voice was richly beautiful and mesmerizing. She could sing me to sleep. In fact, I was getting drowsy right now. I think I'll just lean back and . . .
. . . Whaaaa? Why are there cobwebs covering me and . . . everything else? The candles are out—that explains the darkness. Father and I stood and saw the body of an old woman on the floor in front of us. The screaming witch from the execution I'd heard about. A chandelier had fallen on her? How? What? Suddenly she lifted her head and pushed herself up off the floor. Was that a dagger in her hand? Pointed at me? Huh? With a vicious gasp she threw it right at me!
Wait, is something pulling me down? The next thing I knew I was down on the floor next to my chair, with Merlin beside me. Where'd he come from? We both heard the knife THUNK into my chair where I'd just been standing. We looked up at it, gaping. He'd saved me? Why? He'd given me the impression that he couldn't stand me, and that feeling was mutual.
There was a gasping, hissing sound, then a thud. We stood and saw the woman, the witch, on the floor, really dead this time. I stared at Merlin while Father strode over to us.
"You saved my son's life," he said to Merlin. I could tell he couldn't quite believe what he was saying. "The debt must be repaid."
"Ummm . . ." Merlin managed to get out.
"Don't be so modest. You shall be rewarded."
"No, honestly, you don't have to, Your Highness." He doesn't want a reward? How odd!
"No, absolutely. This merits something quite special."
"Well . . ." He looked honestly perplexed.
"You'll be rewarded a position in the royal household," he clapped a hand to my shoulder. "You will be Prince Arthur's manservant." Wait, what? He strode off into the hall before either of us could say anything.
"Father!" I exclaimed, looking between him and Merlin incredulously. The rest of the hall stood and applauded. Merlin and I looked at each other, stunned, then looked quickly away, disgusted. Neither of us could believe the extremely awkward situation we'd been thrown into. But it was the King who'd put us here and we'd have to stay here until I found a good enough reason to fire him.
A/N So, what did you think? This is a kind of writing test to ease into writing the original stories I have in my head. I've never written fiction before, so I thought playing with an established story would help break me into it. If y'all like this, I can add chapters in like style. Let me know! :)
