The Prince and his Sorcerer
It was a temperate summer's day, and two young boys ran through the village. The blonde one carried a wooden sword in his belt and wore a serious face as they ran toward the open field on the town's outskirts; the smaller, dark-haired boy, although he couldn't quite keep up, had a dopey smile stretched across his lips and an excited glitter in his eyes.
"Hurry up, Merlin!" shouted the blonde boy, looking over his shoulder as they entered the clearing. "We don't have all day, y'know!"
The dark-haired boy – Merlin – began to shout that he was coming when he tripped over his clumsy feet and fell on his face.
"Wait for me, Arthur!" he shouted as he scrambled to his feet. He pulled himself to his feet as fast as he could coordinate his limbs, but in his haste only managed to fall again.
Arthur stopped and rolled his eyes. He took his friend by the hand and helped him up, looking at the grass stains that appeared on his knees and hands. "Come on." If it had been Arthur, he would have been in tears of embarrassment, but Merlin simply smiled as though nothing had happened at all.
They went only a little further before Arthur stopped. "This is a good spot," he declared.
"I don't know," replied Merlin. "Don't you think bandits might find us here?"
"I'm going to be the prince, Merlin," Arthur said matter-of-factly, "so if I say it's a good spot, it's a good spot."
"Oh. Well, if you're the prince, then I'll be your servant." Merlin dipped into a bow. "Sire," he sung happily.
Arthur raised his chin proudly. "Stand!" he commanded, and they both giggled.
They sat in the emerald grass then. Arthur eventually lay down with his hands behind his head to watch the sky and the birds. Occasionally Merlin would say something about the way the wind made the wildflowers ripple red and blue and dotted across the field, or how if it was quiet enough, they could hear the stream nearby babbling.
After a while, Arthur suddenly sat bolt upright and listened intently. "Do you hear that?" he asked Merlin in an undertone.
"What?" The smaller boy's voice was loud, oblivious to anything other than Arthur.
"Shh! You were right." Arthur ducked his head and whispered animatedly. Then, loudly, "Watch out! Bandits!" He pulled the wooden sword from his belt and began to fight the imaginary bandits, striking them down with practiced ease. "Don't worry, Merlin!" he shouted as he swung. "It's a prince's duty to protect his people!"
"I want to help!" Merlin began to wave his arms around wildly. Sometimes, he swooped down, taking handfuls of grass and flowers and throwing them into the air. They became caught in the gentle breeze and danced across the clearing towards the 'bandits'.
Arthur stopped and stared at his 'servant'. "What are you doing?" he wanted to know.
Merlin continued to spin, continuing to fill the air with green and red and blue. "I changed my mind," he informed Arthur. "I want to be a sorcerer!"
"But you can't be a sorcerer!" said Arthur. "You would be as powerful as the prince!"
Face falling, Merlin stared wide-eyed. "But if I'm not a sorcerer, I'm only a servant!" he said. "I don't want to only be that anymore."
Returning his sword to his belt, Arthur placed a hand on Merlin's shoulder. "You're not only a servant," he told him. "You're my best friend, too."
The corners of Merlin's mouth turned up a little, but worry still tugged at the edges of his eyes. "But, but…" he argued, "There are a lot of bandits. Nobody's going to protect you if I'm just a servant."
Arthur hummed, eyes narrowing as he concentrated hard. "Okay," he said. "What about you can be both!"
Merlin squealed and clapped his hands. "Yaye!" he cheered. "I'm a sorcerer!"
"But be quiet!" warned Arthur, drawing his sword again. "If the bandits know you're a sorcerer, they might try and make you be on their side."
Collecting two handfuls of grass and flowers, Merlin stood just a little behind Arthur, facing the 'bandits'. "Don't worry, sire," he said. "It's a sorcerer's duty to protect his prince! Until the very end!"
Arthur turned to Merlin and smiled. Then, he gave a cry and the battle resumed, Merlin following suit. This time, the 'bandits' didn't stand a chance.
As night began to fall, the sky had turned orange and purple. Mothers and fathers had begun to wander the streets of the town, looking to pull their children from their fun in the name of the evening meal. About that time, two young boys stepped back into the village's boundaries: Prince Arthur and his sorcerer Merlin.
Just a quick drabble written in an hour at 1am to Middle of the Hill by Josh Pyke, not for the lyrics but for the melancholy.
All feedback is welcome! Thanks for reading~