So a lot of people have been writing drabbles, and they have inspired me to write something. I started out trying to write drabbles but quickly figured out they were not for me, so I thought id write a collection of (really) short stories about Merlin and Camelot inspired by my favorite Aesop fables. They will only be a few hundred words long. The title of each chapter will be the fable the story is based off of. Im sure some of you will recognize a few plots. The moral of each will be posted at the bottom of the story.
Disclaimer:I dont own merlin.
1. The peacock and the crane
All any man must do to fall in love with her is look upon her. Her beauty is undeniable, and she uses it to her advantage. With green eyes ringed with thick black lashes and ebony hair flowing down her back, you would think you were seeing the face of an angel. Her skin is completely clear and white and smooth, not a trace of imperfection can be seen. When she walks down a street outside, or even a hallway in the palace, she seems to hold herself on a plan above everyone else, almost an equal to the king. Every step is deliberate and graceful, with her hips swinging back and forth just enough to cause her elegant gown to swish softly against the stone floor.
Everyday she will carefully pick out a silken gown studded in gemstones to wear around. The richest colors fill her wardrobe, and every item fits her lovely figure to perfection, for that is what she asks for, and the king would have it no other way. Every night he personal maid will brush her hair and comb out all the tangles that had formed that day, dress he in a gossamer sleeping gown, and help her into a bed that the dark skinned maid could only ever dream of sleeping in for even a single night.
The kingdom considers her their princess, even though she is only the ward of the king. Everywhere in the land, stories and songs tell of the beautiful woman living within the castle of Camelot, a woman who looks and performs as if she was born to be a queen.
Down and up a few halls and a staircase or two, the old court physician sits by a fire in his chambers perched on a weathered wood chair, eating a bowl of thin soup, waiting for his own ward to arrive. It is almost an hour later when the boy stumbles in through the door, knocking down a stool in the process. The old man smiles to himself, for barely a day can go by without the boy in front of him knocking something over.
He blushes slightly at his fumble, but quickly rights the stool and sits down across the table from his uncle, who then hands him a bowl of soup that he had been keeping warm over the fire. The young man slurping away at his supper could not have been more different than the lady currently sleeping in her down comforter in the noble's quarters. He too had inky black hair and pale skin, but that is where the similarities end. While the ward of the king could be considered physically perfect, this boy's very demeanor portrayed his quirks. His hair seemed to be always messy never quite even, and despite what his uncle said, he would never actually take the time to get it cut straight, not that he really minded.
One of his most prominent characteristics were his ears. They seemed unusually large and appeared to stick out somewhat. Many would often find this ironic, for he seemed to never listen to orders people would yell at him. His eyes were bright blue, and his smile almost infectious, but no one who first saw him would see him as anything more than a servant to the prince. His physique is tall and lanky, almost boney. Almost every day he can be seen stumbling down the hallway to the prince's chambers, late for some reason or another- a reason that he almost always lies about. His manners to any one that didn't know his would seem rough, and to those who did know him, they knew when it came to conversations with the prince away from public eyes, he had none at all.
He owned no more than a few shirts, either red or blue, and could always be seen with a neckerchief on. As he finished his bowl, the boy quickly washed his hands, before hurrying off to an old bed with a few threadbare blankets thrown across it. Nothing special, but it suited it all the same. He was used to sleeping on the floor and ground.
As both the lady and the servant boy slept, neither knew that the other was dreaming about them. The lady's dreams were filled with visions of her and her sister destroying Camelot's defenses, capturing the king and ruling over the city. Such dreams and bloody thoughts were not what someone would expect from a woman of her standing and demure demeanor, but she hid her true self well. No one ever saw through her façade, no one except the servant boy, who she wanted to kill with her bare hands for all the pain and trouble he caused her and her sister. Restlessly she rolled over in her silk sheets, with a cruel smirk on her face as she dreamt of the boy's death.
The servant boy, on the other hand, seemed to be having a nightmare, a nightmare that the ward of the king was present in. he was looking into a crystal cave, where he caught glimpses of the lady and her evil sister claiming the crown and killing everyone who opposed them. The servant's greatest fear seemed to be he wouldn't be able to stop them. Subconsciously, her would randomly lift objects scattered around his room with magic and place them down somewhere else, with his conscious self-being none the wiser. This was another thing the boy feared: he feared that one day, the prince would find out about his magic, and hate him for it.
These two people with such different lives and histories are living contradictions of the other. While beautiful and rich, the lady's heart is cruel and cold, filled with bitter hatred. She lives for the power to make all those around her suffer and is willing to go to almost any lengths to get it. She used the magic given to her at birth poorly and used it in such a way that twisted her soul. The boy on the other hand, serves willingly under the rule of a man that would see him and all his kind wiped out if it were possible. Even though he's prophesied to be the greatest wizard ever to have been born, he chooses to serve those in the hopes that one day the prince will be able to understand that magic itself isn't evil, it is the wilder of that magic who corrupts it.
After peeling back the physical appearances of these two people and seeing what is inside their heart, no one would ever mistake the woman for anything other that a power hunger and evil sorceress, or the young man as anything less that the powerful warlock destined to return magic to the realm with the aid of the once and future king.
Aesop moral: Fine feathers do no make fine birds.
I would love for some input on whether I should write any more. It's tough to improve writing when no one will tell you what you're doing right or wrong. Reviews are always welcome.
sincerely, Hazelbunny