When did I last post a fanfic? 2010? Anyway, I'm back in a new fandom with this set of 100 or so drabbles inspired by 100 Words Every High School Graduate Should Know which was in turn inspired by Watcher mine's fantastic Ten Thousand Times of Living Sherlock fanfic. Enjoy!

1-19

Abjure:

When Merlin's secret had finally been uncovered, the last thing anyone close to them had expected the honourable King Arthur to make him do was swear an oath in the most binding of terms to leave Camelot forever.

And when it was finally revealed to be an elaborate ploy to bring Morgana down once and for all, few could resist the temptation to turn to their neighbour and say 'I told you so.'

Abrogate:

The day Arthur formally did away with the law against magic was a day of celebration for all.

That was, of course, because he had managed to quietly slip it in after his wedding speech when everyone was too drunk to care.

Everyone except a young man in a necktie who had given a loud cheer and promptly fallen over his feet.

Abstemious:

As a general rule, Merlin didn't drink. For a start, his tolerance of alcohol was abysmal. A cup or two of ale and the room started to spin (quite literally - his hold on his magic slipped rather drastically, along with his never brilliant coordination.)

Unfortunately he had once made the mistake of telling the castle's greatest drinker this. And, when Sir Gwaine had witnessed something he considered suspicious, he had no qualms in taking Merlin to an out-of-the-way tavern until he knew all he wanted to (and some he didn't.)

But even the reveal of his secret to a not-so-secret man was overshadowed by the pounding of his head the next morning, assisted in its assault by an out-of-reach boot , low bed frame and a master who thought it hilarious to tell him that he was 'sure that the bed had it coming' when he said he'd hit it.1

Acumen:

As one of the Knights of the Round Table, Sir Gwaine generally prided himself on his ability to make good judgements and take quick decisions.

Still, he mused as he started cleaning the sewers (his most pleasurable task all day), maybe kissing the lady Guinevere in front of Arthur had not been worth the bet it rode on.

Antebellum:

The dragons had existed forever, long before the war on magic and other inconsequential events.

This Merlin understood, he understood perfectly.

He just sincerely wished he never reached the age where he stopped lying about how old he was and started bragging. 2

Auspicious:

Today was going to be a good day. Arthur could feel it in the tread of his re-heeled boots, the warmth of the sun glinting off freshly polished armour, and the breeze that lightly ruffled his new haircut.

He managed to get halfway to Gwen's house before meeting Merlin.

"Barber came this morning?" Merlin asked.

Arthur inclined his head, hiding a smug grin. "Yes."

"I could tell." With the look of a farmer appraising a cow, Merlin walked round Arthur examining him from all angles. "You know," he said sincerely, "I thought the last one was bad, but this really takes the biscuit. I'm surprised you haven't had him thrown in the dungeons for gross misconduct against people's sense of style."

Arthur's smile dropped off his face abruptly. "Oh, really?" he said icily.

Merlin nodded amicably. "In my humble opinion, you'd be better looking bald."

Arthur pulled himself up. "Thankfully, Merlin, I value your opinion slightly less than I do the stable boy's. You know the chap, he's the one that can replace you at any time."

With a mischievous grin that spoke volumes (namely that Arthur was talking utter horsedung) Merlin was off, only stopping once to look over his shoulder and shout "Gwen'll love it!" before continuing on his way.

At his words the pout slipped off Arthur's face, replaced by a wide grin.

Belie:

Merlin as a person was clearly defined in almost everyone's mind as clumsy, loyal to a fault and a general cheery chappie.

But to the privileged few who'd seen him as Emyrs another description presented itself: the most dangerous man they'd ever met.

Bellicose:

Merlin would never be described as aggressive, nor would most say he had any inclination towards fighting.

Even so, people learned very fast not to insult Arthur within hearing distance of the unassuming servant.

Bowdlerise:

Over the course of his servitude to Arthur, if there was one thing (other than polishing armour) that he'd got very good at, it was giving a subtly altered version of events.

Nothing too major, just the hero of the story becoming the King rather than himself, whatever was attacking them dead by sword (or crossbow or whatever could be wielded without magic) and the strange, ill-fitting bits omitted. This he found out only after the ban on magic had been lifted, not only saved his neck, but also several months of sulking.

Chicanery:

A Lesson in Chicanery with Merlin:

"Yes, Sire, those new clothes suit you perfectly. Gwen will love them."

"Thank you Merlin. I will not be needing your assistance tomorrow, you may amuse yourself as you please."

End

Chromosome:

It was impossible to guess what the child would be like, although Merlin (already very much at home in the doting uncle role, even if his affections could only be directed, at this point, to a bump) devoted more hours a day than he would like to admit to the task. Appearance-wise it didn't really matter -whatever combination, it would be an extremely good looking child- but he couldn't help but think that if it inherited Gwen's temper with Arthur's leadership qualities it would be as near perfect as a child could be.

Humming happily he reached up to pick some willow. There weren't many trees near Camelot so he'd been forced to journey a couple of days outside the city to pick the desired amount. Still, it looked like an hour more of this and he'd be able to head home.
xxx
His predictions were correct and he was heading back before lunch, arriving three days later in Camelot to be greeted by a tight-lipped king who informed him that the child had been still born the night before.

It was that day that Merlin discovered that there were few things so terrible in the world as a grown man breaking down in front of you and sobbing over and over again, "Why? Why me? Why weren't you here?"

Deleterious:

The child's death caused a breach in Merlin's relationship with Arthur, a gaping chasm of guilt, anger, and pain that Merlin couldn't cross however he tried.

Daily Arthur withdrew, while Merlin could do little but watch as their friendship slipped inexorably into the sort of servant-master relationship theirs had always been made from not being.

It was with an almost physical ache in his chest that Merlin silently attended to him for months, until that one morning in spring that he had something thrown at him and was informed that they were going on a quest and why wasn't his armour polished already, Merlin?

And after that, somewhere between him saving Arthur's life and Arthur making his a misery, it was all sorted out until they were back in the familiar comfort of their bickering and both came back to Camelot smiling like everything was suddenly, if not right, so much better in the world.

Churlish:

Before Merlin, before Gwen and the knights, before the long years of adventures, growing up and finding himself, Arthur had been rather, well, churlish. This he had grudgingly conceded to once when he was a little bit drunk and very happy from just escaping certain death and had all of his closest friend's insisting that, yes, he really had been that bad.

And yet it still managed to sting just a little when he overheard a group of what he had considered trusted officials nattering about what an absolutely terrible child he'd been, then laughing uproariously (and slightly nastily) when they recalled the few occasions he'd been taken down a peg or two. (To add insult to injury, due to the fragile state of his government, there wasn't really any option but to pretend he hadn't heard.)

Still, he had been somewhat heartened by Merlin's quick reassurance that at least he'd managed to grow out of his worst habits, while those tossers were still as awful as ever. Of course, he then had to send him on some mind numbing task just to make it clear that he could not be flattered into giving his servant a day off, but it was the thought that counted.

Circumlocution:

"Well Sire, I did meet a woman outside the walls, that is true, but even an old man like me is allowed to court a woman, no? Her hood did look most suspicious but aren't the fashions ever changing? And although I did give her poison, but she needed to kill her chickens and was, if you'll pardon the pun, too chicken to do it herself so she was going to do it the easy way and just slip it in their food. The information I was overhead giving her was just me trying to prove my undying love for her by showing how completely I trust her. And besides Sire, I'm your uncle. I'd never betray you."

Arthur bowed him head. "Of course, uncle. I'm sorry I doubted you."

"Apology accepted. Now Gaius, he has control of all the poisons in the kingdom. Think about that."

With a nod of his head, Agravaine left, leaving the knights, his lady, and a manservant all staring at the king in disbelief.

"With all due respect, Sire," Leon said after a pause. "Are you blind?"

"Excuse me?" Arthur's head, which had been resting in his hands, came up sharply to meet Leon's gaze.

Leon waved his hands about helplessly. "Chickens. You don't poison something you're going to eat."

"Forget that," Gwaine interjected. "What woman would be insane enough to fall in love with Agravaine?"

"Not to mention small, rather important fact that seems to have escaped your notice, Sire, that we heard him promising to kill you," Gwen said.

"And what about the shrine he has to Morgana in his room?" Merlin demanded. "Because that's exactly what your most loyal advisor should have, a place dedicated to your sworn enemy."

Arthur waved away their objections with a hand. "Don't be ridiculous. Perhaps the chickens couldn't be eaten anyway, or his lady friend doesn't eat meat."

"His 'lady friend' is Morgana, if you've forgotten," Elyan said incredulously.

"We have no proof of that," Arthur reminded them.

"It looked like her, sounded like her and smelt like her. How much more proof do you need?"

"That came from a highly unreliable source."

"I was not that drunk!" Gwaine said indignantly.

"You were drunk enough to trip over your feet and into the lady!"

No one could deny the truth of that, and settled for shuffling about a bit.

"Anyway," Arthur said in a more controlled voice. "As I was saying, there's a perfectly reasonable explanation for each of your worries. Gwen, you know as well as I do that Agravaine was simply trying to discover traitors. Merlin, you know too that we must meditate on the minds of our enemies to know what will be their next move. I rather think your irritation on the matter is more to do with the fact that you have to dust it than out of concern for me."

"It's creepy!" Merlin insisted.

Arthur sighed. "I think you should all get back to work. For the last time, Agravaine is not a traitor, although if I could get one of you to investigate Gaius for me. . ?"

At this, the degree of disbelief cranked up a notch.

"You cannot be serious," Gwen said. "You've already investigated him and found him completely faithful!"

Arthur shrugged. "I don't like it either, but who has access to the potions?"

For several in the room the stone wall had started looking like a very nice place to hit their heads against. It certainly was more likely to listen.

"Maybe he's enchanted?" Gwen whispered out of the corner of her mouth to Merlin.

"Or just bull headed," he whispered back.

Arthur, obviously tired of the conversation, raised an arm to shoo them out. "If you've quite finished finding traitors in trustworthy friends I will remind you that you've got a job to do. Back to work, the lot of you," he said.

Muttering darkly amongst themselves, the group complied.

Deciduous:

Merlin was used to Kilgharrah taking his time to come when he called. If the need to talk wasn't urgent, he even occasionally went so far as to bring a book to entertain himself with while he waited.

Still, when he had been waiting in a cold wet field for over two hours and there was still no sign of him, he couldn't help feeling a little impatient and, well, worried.

And he couldn't quite summon anger either, when a half-bald dragon appeared five minutes later looking very sorry for himself.

Dragons, it was snootily explained to him, shed their scales annually much like trees their leaves and it was a closely guarded secret of the dragonlords by the dragon's request and if he didn't stop laughing he would very soon be a roasted warlock, consequences forgotten.

Diffident:

One wouldn't describe King Arthur as lacking in self-confidence. In modesty and knowledge of normal life, yes, but if there was one thing he could do well it was haughty arrogance.

So it made it all the more amusing when Merlin chanced upon him pacing up and down in front of Gwen's door, giving himself a peptalk and muttering things like 'be a man!' and 'just get it over with!'. And when he tapped him on the shoulder and asked in his most polite tones whether he might perhaps wish to leave it for another day, Merlin found himself wishing for a device that wouldn't be invented until the mid-19th century3.

Enervate:

A spell that slowly drained your life force may not have been the most original of curses, but it was certainly effective, as Merlin discovered as he dragged himself ever so slowly to the healing waters that lay mere footsteps away.

Also, it is extremely onerous when your master crouches next to you with a slightly quizzical look on his face, then with one hoick of his arm brings you the full distance and you have to endure the relentless teasing for weeks afterwards until he does something embarrassing enough to use as blackmail.

And, if you're a hopeless blackmailer, there's really no hope for you.

Enfranchise:

Arthur had a problem. Namely, a certain manservant who insisted on saving his life almost daily and then refusing any honours point blank. It was getting embarrassing. They'd be in some improbable situation, moments from death, and then Merlin's eyes would flash and it would all suddenly work itself out and the infuriating boy would ask for or accept nothing, just giving a small, smug smile which said more clearly than any words that he'd done it again and Arthur was once more forever in his debt. People were beginning to talk.

Arthur's head hit his desk with a thud, then slowly rose as an idea came to him. It could work – it would have to, and what servant wouldn't jump at the chance to be free to have his own lands and own servants?

"Mer- GEORGE!" he yelled.

xxx

Merlin, apparently. In his own words, they were stuck with each other.

Arthur's head hit the table one more, but this time he was smiling.

Epiphany:

Arthur looked round at his sheepish knights, his lady, and court physician and then at his unassuming manservant who was looking doubly sheepish and mildly terrified.

"You knew?" he said. "All of you knew and didn't think to tell me?"

The group shifted about restlessly, giving little nervous half nods as if they were less likely to be noticed, their eyes fixed firmly on the floor.

Arthur slammed his fist on the table. "Why? Could you not trust me?"

He dropped into a chair, fuming. "All of you knew that it was Merlin who accidently dyed all my clothes pink rather than an age old curse and you didn't tell me?"

1Unknown, but someone else did come up with this.

2Quote, Will Rogers.

3A Camera

Thanks for reading and I apologise for any glaring grammar/spelling mistakes. I'm in desperate need of a beta wise in the ways of grammar so if any of you have any spare time. . ? Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it despite.

Ciao