Okay. This popped into my head literally less than an hour ago, and I just had to write it straight away. I thought it up as a one-shot, but I think it has the potential to stretch for a few chapters if people like it. I picture this as fairly early in S4 (although, unfortunately, after the horrible events of episode three).
Well, on with the show!
Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin (panic and chaos would spread fast if I did. Lol.)
The council was convened. Of course it was- the council loved convening, and Arthur couldn't very well upset the council, so he had to go along with their regular insistence that it was necessary for them to convene at least once every two days. No matter how bored it made him. The only upside that he could see was that Merlin was forced to sit (well, stand) through the meetings too. Maybe eventually the punishment would teach the lazy idiot to spend less time in the tavern and more time fulfilling his duty. Or even just to learn what the word 'duty' even meant.
The recently-crowned King's barely-stifled yawn was abruptly cut off when, in a manner he deemed to be rather cliché and flashy, a wizened old man appeared in a whirl of smoke, right on top of the council's table. Not the usual old man of course- that Dragoon fellow would never dare to show his face again, if he knew what was good for him- but an extraordinarily old man nonetheless.
Snapping himself out of his haze of boredom, Arthur jumped to his feet and drew his sword, giggling inwardly at the way Merlin had stepped forward from his corner, staring at the man almost warningly. Ha! As if Merlin could do anything against a sorcerer!
"Calm down, sire," uttered the man, his deep voice holding a strangely calming effect. "I mean no-one here any harm." With an elegant hop one would expect from someone at least fifty years younger, the man jumped over the head of one rather startled council member, then sent Arthur a friendly smile.
"What else would you be here for?"
The man's eyebrows rose by what seemed to be about half a league. "I take it, by your tone, that you are expecting me- as a sorcerer- to have some vile plan to kill you and take over your Kingdom?"
"Of course. What else would a sorcerer come here to do?" Arthur ignored the strangely indignant look which flashed over his manservant's face, and instead focused on the movements of the not-so-frail old man before him. To his surprise, the man breathed an irritated sigh.
"And with that sort of attitude, young man, I'm really not surprised you have so many sorcerers after you. You really are too stubborn for your own good." Before Arthur could retaliate, the man continued. "And that it precisely why I have no choice but to do this!"
The man, for some unfathomable reason, sent a reassuring look towards Merlin, before spreading his arms wide. All of a sudden, Arthur found himself frozen in place. And judging by the council members' expressions, the old fuddy-duddies were in a similar state.
Smiling, the man started to speak in the strange guttural words of the ancient language (Merlin's expression growing more and more amused as he went along). Then, when his long spiel had finally come to an end, he gave a satisfied nod.
"There. For the rest of the day, starting from when I leave, every person present in Camelot- as well as those who arrive during the day- will take on the form of the creature who most represents their personality. Although you will all still be able to speak. I hope you will use this opportunity to learn a few things about the people around you." And with that, the old man disappeared in yet another swirl of smoke.
Arthur would have scoffed at the man's distinctly un-sorcerer-like behaviour. But he was a bit distracted by the fact that he suddenly appeared to be what people years in the future would term as far-sighted. That, and the strange realization that everything was now in black and white, and his head was about level with the table.
"Um, Arthur?" Came Merlin's voice from behind him, with not-hidden-at-all laughter present by the cartload. "Apparently, the creature you're most like... is a Goat..."
A feeling of indignant horror quickly settled itself in the King's newly-shaped four stomachs. He turned around, fighting the urge to chew on a piece of paper dangling over the edge of the table, completely determined to give Merlin a piece of his mind. Only to feel his bearded jaw drop.
This was just not fair.
Why did he- the King of Camelot!- have to be a goat, when his lazy, idiotic drunkard of a servant had succeeded in somehow tricking the sorcerer into turning him into a magnificently noble-looking, horse-sized DRAGON (of all things!)- complete with gorgeously glittering ebony scales and startlingly blue eyes!
This. Really. Was. Not. Fair.
So? What did you think? Let me know if you want to see more (I know exactly what Agravaine would be turned into)
Oh, and before I forget- apologies to any of my readers (for this and other ongoing stories), but updates are likely to be practically non-existent for the next couple of weeks, With a single reason, which I'm sure most of you will understand (although reluctantly) with the following two words: Exam season. I'M REALLY SORRY!