Ffurflenni (Returns)
Summary: After Camlann, Merlin must wait for Arthur's return. But this is a great, wide world, populated by souls old and new. Eternity is a long time, and Arthur is not the only one destined to return. A set of drabbles and shorts on the intermittent returns of some familiar faces...
Characters: Many and varied ;)
ONE ~ Coming... and going
. . .
"Alaois Flaithrí Mullane. You stand before us today charged with theft of mining rights and property, drunkenness, vagrancy and adultery to name but a few. Your crimes are many, and varied."
That was a little bit true. Pretty true. Sort of. Well...
"You have been tried and found guilty on all counts by a jury of your peers."
Again, true. Though peers was a rather... all-encompassing word. These people didn't really count as peers. More... neighbours he didn't care for much. What was to like? Not one of them knew how to have a laugh, or else he wouldn't be standing up here.
"In my defence, it was all really good fun."
Grimacing in distaste, the Mayor flicked out his parchment. "The sentence handed down is execution. It is with the greatest solemnity that I must see it passed. Have you any final requests?"
One or two. He rolled his shoulders against the ropes binding his hands behind his back and cricked his head to one side against the noose draped around his neck. "That somebody step up and loosen this thing? It's a little tight."
A ripple of laughter ran through the crowd assembled around the town gallows. Maybe they did know how to have a laugh after all?
The mayor shook his head, despairing for a semblance of order, and turned his eyes down to read from the parchment in his hands once more.
"Alaois Mullane. For your numerous crimes, you will be hung by the neck until dead. Any final words?"
He gave a shrug, looked up over the crowd at a group of comely young lasses with satisfied blushes on their rosy cheeks, and a basket of apples held as a last offering of love between them. Hell, maybe coming to America hadn't been such a bad idea after all?
He grinned.
"Is oth liom rud ar bith."*
With a jerk of the lever, the trap door disappeared from beneath his feet.
Ͽ ~ ͼ ~ ҉ ~ ͽ ~ Ͼ
* I regret nothing. - Badly translated.
Note: Working on my entry for LJ's Merlin art fest 2014 when 'Hangman Jury' by Aerosmith came on, and this happened. My 'Various' playlist is dangerous. Not sure how often this'll get updated. When inspiration strikes, I'm guessing :P
xxx