Hello everyone and thank you for taking the time to click on my story!
This was somewhat inspired by William Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet, and I hope you like it. :)
HUMUNGOUS thanks to MerthurForeverr.x for being my beta (and my new friend!) Definitely go check out some of her stories—she's brilliant!
Enjoy!
A ROSE BY ANY OTHER NAME
"But Father—"
"No buts, Arthur, we are going and that is final."
Arthur huffed indignantly. "But no one attended my coronation when I became Crowned Prince of Camelot."
"Arthur, I have not seen King Balinor in over 20 years. We must attend." King Uther explained. "Anyway, it is high time you met his son. You will both be King one day and will have to work together to keep peace."
Arthur sighed and ran a hand through his wheat-colored hair, a habit he often performed when he was stressed or upset. Uther took this as a sign of defeat and turned back to giving orders to his knights to prepare for the trek. As Arthur sulked away, Uther called, "Oh and Arthur! Be packed and ready by tonight. We leave at dawn."
When Arthur arrived back at his chambers he found Morgana perched on the edge of his bed. He wasn't surprised; she seemed to materialize out of thin air quite often.
"What is it, Morgana?" he sighed. He strode to his closet and tugged out an endless heap of clothes. He began to rifle through them impatiently as Morgana spoke. "I don't see why you're so cross. I hear Prince Merlin is quite the cutie." Her knowing tone caused Arthur's head to snap up. He glared at her twinkling eyes and went back to tossing chosen tunics into a separate pile.
"Then why don't you go in my place?"
"Oh stop being such a petulant child," she said. Kneeling on the floor she started folding Arthur's clothes. He briefly wondered how she could retain her royal authority while doing servant's work. "I know your tastes aren't—" Morgana faltered as Arthur sent her a glare that would make Satan shudder, "-aren't," she continued, "up to Uther's standards. But that doesn't mean you can't have a bit of fun."
Arthur sighed for the billionth time that day and spat out, "Morgana, that's hardly behavior for the Prince of Camelot."
Morgana feigned a pout and said, "Yeah, but why let the commoners have all the fun? Just go, and stop complaining."
She finished folding his clothes, and began stuffing them in a bag. After a minute she tied it shut and handed it to Arthur. Without a word she exited the room, the train of her dress billowing behind her.
Arthur tossed the bag next to the door and after removing his shirt, slipped beneath the covers. An hour or two of tossing and turning finally earned him a few hours of sleep.
O.o.O
"Welcome to Avalon!"
Arthur attempted to stifle a yawn as Uther and King Balinor shook hands warmly. They had traveled nonstop since dawn, and now the sun was dipping below the horizon, far past the snowcapped mountains and glittering lakes. Arthur followed his father and Balinor obediently through the castle as the knights unloaded the horses. The whole castle was constructed of some kind of sparkly white stone, and the hallways were lined with exquisite paintings of the landscape surrounding them.
"This stone," Uther commented, "is fantastic. What is it?"
Balinor smiled proudly. "White granite—we had to haul all of it from a cave a few miles north of here. But it was well worth it."
"Certainly," Uther agreed.
They reached the throne room. Two modest thrones lounged at the other side of the room in front of a grand fireplace. More paintings adorned the walls, except for one. The wall to Arthur's right was almost completely made of glass, showing a view of the land beyond and the disappearing sunset.
"Stunning," breathed Uther appreciatively. Balinor nodded in thanks. "Merlin is getting ready, but you can go and see him if you like, Arthur." Arthur nodded politely. "Aballach, please show Arthur to Merlin's chambers." One of the guards standing beside the door bowed, and left the room, Arthur following close behind.
After several long hallways, they finally ascended a winding staircase and came to a door. Laughter could be heard on the other side.
Aballach knocked.
"Come in!"
Aballach opened the door and allowed Arthur to enter, then went in himself.
Arthur was met with a startling image.
Merlin—he assumed the one wearing royal clothing was the prince—was sitting on the floor, drawing, and laughing with a servant. The Prince! And it wasn't like he was 5 years old, when it might scarcely pass as acceptable. No, he was 19- one year younger than Arthur.
Behind him Aballach sighed. "My lord, you should be preparing for your coronation." Merlin finally looked up through a fringe of black hair with large, innocent, sapphire eyes.
"Oh! We are! We're…Um…" he stammered to a halt and looked to the servant for assistance. All he received was a fit of giggles.
Aballach said, "Merlin, this is Arthur, Prince of Camelot."
Merlin's eyes rested on Arthur for a moment. The servant scrambled to his feet. "My lord," he said, bowing low. Arthur noticed the tint of sarcasm in his voice. Merlin looked pointedly at the bowing servant, and then stood up himself.
The door clicked behind him. Arthur turned, only to see Aballach had left. When he turned back Merlin had his pale hand out and a goofy grin on his face. "Hello, friend," he greeted.
Arthur didn't take the hand. "I've never met you before."
"Um…"
"So why did you call me friend?"
Merlin hesitated. "Just being nice, I guess."
"That was before he knew you were such an ass, though," the servant piped up, defending his prince. Merlin pursed his lips, trying his hardest not to smile.
Arthur looked at the servant. "You can't speak to me like that," he growled.
"Or what?" the servant retorted.
"Peace, Will," Merlin urged. He looked at Arthur. "Why are you here?"
"Your father sent me to meet you," Arthur explained.
The servant named Will said, "Well you've met him, so leave."
Arthur nearly smiled at how incompetent this servant was. It had to be a joke, right? "You can't address me like that." Arthur had never had someone stand up to him like that. It was wrong.
"Will, go fetch my ceremonial clothes," Merlin ordered. "Please."
Will quickly left.
"Look, I don't know how they do things in Camelot, but this is Avalon, where we treat everybody with respect." Merlin hissed.
"Obviously not everyone does," said Arthur, nodding his head back toward the door. Merlin rolled his eyes. Just then, Will burst back into the room with a large armful of fine-looking clothing.
"Speak of the devil," Arthur muttered. Merlin glared at him with the ferocity of a hundred storms, and the blonde prince would have flinched if he was anyone else.
"I think you're excused," said Merlin coldly. Huffing, Arthur turned and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Once he was outside, he sighed, leaning against the wall. He was annoyed and frustrated, yes, but he had to admit it, impressed. He was surprised someone had the guts to stand up to him like that. The very thought almost excited him.
What was it about that man that made him so emotional?
I apologize for the boringness of this chapter, but it'll get better! I pinky promise!
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