Men With Beards
a weirderthansnot story
Disclaimer: Merlin isn't mine.
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Of course, Merlin was the first to gray. Merlin woke one morning to find the steely little bastards at his temple, stark against his black hair. He considered plucking them, but reasoned if the hairs were anything as stubborn as the head on which they grew, they'd be back in a half an hour, with friends. He left the hairs alone.
Arthur spotted them almost immediately. He found Merlin wandering the corridors of the castle, stroking his beard. He liked stroking his beard. It made him look thoughtful and wizardly. He had even started a trend among some of the younger noblemen a few years ago, but it had quickly faded after he'd accidentally set his own beard on fire while researching the volatility of Wilddeoren saliva.
"Oh-hoh," Arthur sang he met Merlin in the corridor. He peered over his spectacles. Merlin should have known they would not go unnoticed, but then, he had always been an optimist. "What have we here?"
"Oh, go jump off a tower." Merlin huffed, eyeing the King in disdain. Arthur had a beard too, but it wasn't nearly as impressive as Merlin's beard. Arthur kept his beard cropped close to his face, and Gwen made him comb it everyday. Hah.
"My apologies," the king said gleefully. "It is rude to mock the elderly. Shall I fetch you a chair, grandfather?"
"Go ahead, laugh," Merlin said, assuming his usual place at Arthur's side, matching his purposeful stride with a lanky, languid gait of his own. "But I know the only reason you wear that crown to hide your receding hairline."
"Just because I wear the sigil befitting of my station, unlike some people – "
"Oh, not the this again – "
"It's just a hat, Merlin!"
"It's purple! And pointy! With little embroidered stars," Merlin said, wiggling his fingers and making a face. "It's punishment, isn't it? You're punishing me for keeping my magic a secret. Well, if you like it so much, why don't you wear it, you ugly toad!"
"I can't wear it, can I? You fed it to that nest of Balorian spiders last week."
"That hat was impeding my studies in the intrinsic properties of the Mortaeus flower," Merlin huffed, perhaps a little petulantly.
"Don't be so melodramatic, you big milkmaid. What are you going to do, turn me into a mule? Again?"
"Like you need my help with that, you ass."
"What did I ever do to you?" The Once and Future King grumbled, crossing his arms.
Wordlessly, his Chief Advisor and Court Sorcerer just pointed to his graying temple.
(After all, not even time can change some things.)
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