Hi!This is my new Merlin story, "Ouroboros".
I hope you enjoy it.
Chapter 1- "Picnic"
Merlin stroked his horse, feeling more nervous than the animal itself, which was violently whinnying.
"Oh, come on, Merlin!" a voice close to him sneered "Even the girls have mastered it!"
Merlin bit his tongue to prevent from telling him off, and tried to climb up the horse, failing to do so.
"You are a shame to all citizens of Camelot!" Arthur snickered, but still putting his hands down and crossing them so Merlin could climb up. The manservant put his left foot on Arthur's hands and the prince impulse him up.
Merlin fell clumsily on the top of the horse, now with a terrible pain on his lower member.
"Urgh…" he groaned, and Gwen and Morgana laughed. He could almost hear Arthur's smirk.
Merlin rolled his eyes and straightened up his back, reminding Arthur's lessons on horse ridding and, quite happily, was able to ride his horse calmly.
They were heading to the forest, where they were going to have a picnic, probably the last before autumn, for a chilly breeze was flowing from the North. Summer had passed so fast, he had barely noticed it! Soon enough they would be forced to stay at home. Of course, that only meant Merlin had to put up with Arthur even more. If he was a prat in good weather, when he could be hunting and training outside, clearing his head and entertaining himself terrorizing the other knights, what would he be like when he was forced to be inside? Maybe that would mean more work for Merlin and more times attending to Uther's councils, which never ceased to bore him, in all his 6 months as a Camelot citizen and Arthur's manservant.
The path to the forest was uneven and leaves were covering the road, looking like a carpet of red and green. It looked enchanted, the trees around him framing the sky that, from above the swirls of green, looked of a clear blue.
The girls were telling stories, riding behind Arthur and Merlin, merrily laughing. Arthur was also smiling and sometimes even talking back to the girls, a rare discomposure of the man who was perpetually annoyed and bored.
It seemed such a nice day!
Despite the wind, the gentle sunlight bathed the forest and water droplets scintillated everywhere. It looked like pixies, he reckoned, but then reminded the last time he encountered some and how they had preyed on Arthur and quickly dismissed that thought. They reached the place after half an hour of horse riding. It was a beautiful meadow, covered by green grass and many trees. A mountain defined the horizon, looking grey and pale compared to the life that seemed to emerge from grassland. Merlin knew it, it was so big it could be seen from was covered with snow at its top, and Merlin thought it reached the sky. That's what his mother had told him when he was little, at least. That was when Merlin used to dream about climbing up said mountain and live in a cage with fairies and bears that lived in an underworld. He laughed at his own superb imagination and returned his look to the mesmerizing lea.
Umbers, oaks, birches and he though he could spot some elms on the horizon, but he couldn't be sure as of this distance. But the largest tree, located right after the forest's outskirts, was really magnificent. It had a thick bark and a broad, dark brown trunk. Its leaves were still green, while the other trees' ones had long gone yellow.
Gwen slid off the horse with a woven basket of wicker, and a large smile. Morgana followed her, a mantle folded under her arm.
"Merlin put the horses over there!" Arthur commanded. He really didn't give him any rest.
Merlin guided the horses, grumbling to himself on how Arthur was a git, and that made him surprisingly better. After all, spending an entire morning trying to scrub out wine from a prince's breeches wasn't exactly a good way to start his day, and one could not be blamed if said wine stained to the impossibility said white and perfect breeches.
He suddenly reminded he was holding the horses' reins and tied them to a tree, assuring that the rope was long enough to allow the horses to bend their necks and eat the grass.
"Are you done yet? I want to eat today!" he heard the prince shout. So, now in a bad mood, he turned around and headed towards where a white mantle was laid on ground.
He sat on the edge of the sheet that Gwen had surely brought from home. It was a bit shredded in the corner Merlin had occupied, but the two royals didn't seem to notice or care, even if they were used to better linen.
Displayed on the mantle were loaves of bread, still tucked in the basket, a large gourd filled with water, he guessed, for it was opaque, several mugs and something wrapped in cloth that definitely smelled like Gwen's pies. Upon hearing his stomach rumble, he grabbed a slice of bread and munched it while Guinevere poured water on his mug. Then, she sat at Morgana's side, in the opposite side of the large towel, on her knees, while Arthur leant on the tree, with his legs stretched on the top of the mantle. He and Morgana were discussing the strange laundry event that had occurred early that day. Merlin felt a knot form on his throat.
"It's strange, right?" Morgana laughed "Guinevere says that there were clothes floating in mid-air!"
Arthur laughed as well, picking up the mug again to take a sip of water.
"Are you sure, Gwen?" he asked, seeming to doubt the maid. After all, magic was serious matter in Camelot. "And you say there was only Merlin there?"
"Yes, sire." Gwen replied, timidly.
"Merlin, did you see anything?" Morgana inquired, seeming eager to find out what has put her maid and friend in a state of hysteria.
Merlin hid his face, fearing that the lady's piercing gaze would be able to read his mind, and, pretending to nibble on his piece of bread, lied with all his teeth. Why had he fallen on the temptation of doing magic inside the castle? He deserved that someone had caught him, to teach him to be more cautious.
"But-" Gwen started.
"Gwen!" interrupted Morgana "Maybe you really didn't see the clothes floating." She paused, directing another look at Merlin. She didn't believe him. "I think you have been working too much lately and you just imagined things! Now, let's taste the wonderful pie you've baked for us!"
Gwen nodded, still seeming a bit confused and worried, and the knot on Merlin's throat grew tighter. She didn't deserve to be treated like that, when she was saying the truth. But what could Merlin do?
But the feeling of guild quickly disappeared as the pie was unwrapped and the sweet smell of freshly-made meat pie took over the air, merging with the other natural fragrances that dwelled around them.
His nostrils inhaled the tender smell and his mouth almost drooled when Gwen cut the pie and gave each one a slice. He ate it, certainly with a foolishly satisfied expression on his face, for Arthur and Morgana started laughing, almost instantly followed by Gwen. Blushing, he worried to eat the rest of slice, only to start laughing as well.
Drinking on last mug of water, he got up and helped the girls put the remaining food and water back in the basket. Then, he returned the horses to their respective owners: Morgana quickly hopped on her white horse, Snowflake; Arthur, his usual stallion, Thunder; Gwen cheerfully grabbed her deceased father's horse, an old, but resilient honey-coloured friend.
Lastly, Merlin caressed his horse again; he was as old was Gwen's and his fur was dark brown. In fact it looked like it was black, but when light shone on it; one could see the dark brown emerging.
He mounted, now with much more ease, he recognized, proud, and they rode off to the forest, saying the last goodbye to that part of the Kingdom before the cold weather came. Already the clouds around the mountain seemed to gather fiercely.
"Hey, Arthur, what about a race?" Morgana asked, a defying grin drawn on her lips.
"Milady, no!" Gwen intervened "You might fall!"
"Of course not, I'll beat this little prince in any time!"
"That's not what I-"
"Kyaa!Snowflake!" Morgana shouted, and the white horse raised itself in two and galloped into the path.
Arthur ordered his horse as well, and, with a kick in Thunder's stomach, he stormed away, following Morgana with equal speed and leaving Gwen and Merlin behind, in a calm ride.
"Those two are really impossible!" Gwen confessed, with a laugh.
"Yeah…"Merlin agreed "Do you think they'll end up together?"
"What? No!" Gwen exclaimed, surprised, but firm. Her horse stopped, probably after feeling its owner distress.
Merlin's horse staggered as well, making the warlock shake a bit on its back.
"Why do you say that?" he asked.
Gwen blushed gratuitously.
"I…I think they are just like two sibilings, not…you know!" she blurted out, the nervous tone in her voice making Merlin suspicious. Even though the poor maid talked like that all the time.
"Gwen…Do you happen to fancy Arthur?" he asked, with a mischievous smile.
She blushed more intensively.
"No!" she shouted "What are you saying!"
Merlin suppressed a laugh and narrowed his eyes, a foolish grin still dancing on his lips.
"You do!"
"Merlin, don't be stupid!" she vociferated, not seeming ashamed anymore. There was even certain resoluteness in her voice and a hard glint on her eyes that made Merlin's look waver.
She then seemed to realize her own words.
"Oh, sorry! I didn't mean to yell. And you're not stupid! I…You're being a bit right now, but that was no reason to..."
"Gwen, it's no big deal, really!" the warlock assured "You two would have to be quite about it, but there wouldn't be any major problems…What?"
Gwen had turned her head, and she was facing the ground 10 metres ahead, watching, but not really seeing.
"It…It is not Arthur who I fancy…" she said, her expression hidden by the shadows created by the trees.
"Then…who?" Merlin asked. Who did the maid, in fact, like, if not Arthur?
"It-It doesn't matter!" she said, and impelled her horse forwards in a throttle.
Following the other's example, and not wanting to stay behind, he did the same, now even more curious about Gwen's love interest. He quickly reached the castle.
Arthur and Morgana were already waiting for him; waiting for Merlin to take care of the horses, that is.
"And don't forget to wash them." said Arthur, after a full list of what the manservant was to do. Then, with a serious expression, he shoved the reins onto Merlin's hands and stormed away.
"What happened?" asked the raven-haired boy, in total confusion and innocence, to Morgana, who had delivered Snowflake gently to him.
"He lost." She explained, with a smirk.
He laughed as well, and entered the stables, waving goodbye to Gwen, who was leading her own horse home, and her mistress. Arthur sometimes could be a little childish. No, very childish.
He stepped inside the stables. It smelled, to say the least. Apparently, the stables' boy had finished cleaning the horses, for the floor was soaked wet, but didn't remember cleaning the stables itself. The horses' droppings were still scattered among the floor
Trying to cover his nose with the free hand he had left, he led Thunder, Snowflake and Kora to their respective places. Deciding that it was best to clean the dung first, he removed it with a shovel to a bucket. He took several trips outside to empty the bucket's content. When he had that task done, he sighed and looked at the sky. They sure had picked the best time to a trip. The sun was almost gone, and some dark clouds threatened showers for that same day. One day later, and they would've stayed home disappointed.
He returned inside, where the horses waited for their bath and he obliged much against his will. His legs were a bit sore from the riding and his back hurt due to the bending he had done while cleaning. He felt a bit too old right now.
"What's the point of being a sorcerer, when I can't use magic to help me in the simplest of chores?" he muttered, angrily, while pouring a bucket full of water onto Thunder's back. The horse whinnied.
"Ah, I bet you like that, don't you?" he mumbled, tough he couldn't find the strength to get mad at the horse.
After completing the so hated task, he still had to go to the prince's chambers, the one thing he despised the more than mucking out the stables. Why? Because the prince had a temper.
Merlin opened the door, afraid. The prince had a new mania everyday. Either he would have a tantrum about how the weather was too hot or he would shout at Merlin for making his clothes disappear. He though that was very insulting. Not because of the prospect of a wizard as powerful as him wasting his power on a petty prank (and he did it sometimes) was ridiculous. No, it was because Arthur was the one that kept leaving his clothes on the most unpredictable places. Like the kitchen. When has Arthur even set foot on a kitchen?
But, this time, nothing happened. The blonde was just sitting on the wooden carved chair in front of the fireplace, simply looking at the lit fire, the yellow light flickering calmly on his blue eyes.
"Sire, anything wrong?" Merlin asked, both politely, for he didn't want Arthur to start throwing things at him again, and suspicious of the quietness of the scene.
"No, Merlin. Everything's fine." he said, blankly, still looking at the fireplace.
"And that what's bothering me." he muttered, voice low so the prince wouldn't hear him, and drew nearer Arthur "Sire?"
The prince rolled his eyes and stared at his manservant. With annoyed stamped all over his face, he spelled:
"What is it?"
"What's wrong?" Merlin repeated, starting to get worried.
Arthur looked away again, clearly bothered.
"What's wrong, Arthur?" the younger boy echoed, already loosing his patience.
"I…I lost to Morgana." he finally admitted, with a frown, his right hand rubbing his temple lightly.
The servant fell silent for a moment, not believing what he had just heard, and then burst out laughing.
"I though you were….And that's it? You really are…" he managed to articulate between laughs and bending over his stomach.
The prince, however, did not find it a bit funny:
"Stop it, Merlin."
As the other did not obey, he smacked him in the head.
"OW!" Merlin cried "What was that for?"
"Remember your place!" the blonde hissed, hiding his embarrassed face, and making Merlin regain seriousness.
"Sorry, it's just that I find that a bit immature, Arthur."
The prince stared at him with vengeful eyes and said:
"It's 'Sire', not 'Arthur'.Don't forget that."
The will to laugh had now abandoned Merlin completely. He hated it when Arthur insisted on that barrier. Usually, he did it when he was in a bad mood. Today, that was the case.
"Sorry, sire." he gulped, getting a killer look by Arthur. There was just no way to please the prince.
"So, if that's all, I'll be going, sire." And he tried very, very hard to make the title sound unpleasant.
By the number of times Arthur called during the night under false pretexts, only to get him out of bed, he guess he managed to do it.
Merlin was right.
Arthur really was an immature prat.
Thank you very much for reading, please review and favourite, if you like it. Constructive Criticism is very welcome. And please notice that my first language isn't English.
Love,
Kironomi