Disclaimer: Do not own Merlin or any characters...etc.
This is what happens when I get a RANDOM IDEA Midnight...
Tipsy-ing the Scales of Destiny…
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He giggled.
The sound reverberated from one end of the empty, secretive corridor to the other; it was dark, but it could well have been broad daylight, and he still would have missed that step –as he could see numerous sets of stairs before him-…resulting in an unceremonious freefall-slash-cartwheel down the remainder of the staircase.
Even in such an inebriated state, his mind still responded to the twinges of pain that radiated outwards in the otherwise numb body as the sharp edge of every step jabbed into a soft, fleshy part of his person. Lying spread-eagled upon the ground, the world still spinning in a hazy fog, he groaned loudly…but at the very least; the floor meant he was halted from falling any further.
Now, to be fair, he wasn't exactly in control of all his bodily functions at the time, therefore the flat-on-my-face-on-the-flagstones-with-posterior-in-the-air look that he had literally fallen into was not exactly his fault…per se… Nor were the numerous flagons of ale he had been near-forced to consume by a mildly-drunk and vaguely interested Arthur…
A certain pompous Prince wanting to see exactly how much the smaller man-servant could consume before falling down drunk… Luckily for him, however, the Prince himself was about three flagons ahead of him; and so, in true royal manner, fell off his seat alongside many of the Knights he had defeated earlier that evening…
In any other circumstance, he would have been forced to drag the pompous git all the way back to his chambers, but on this occasion, there was reprieve. For he was quite uncertain as to where he was; other servants made to take the Prince when they realised he, himself, was seeing so many differing copies of the royal personage, he could not lay hands on the red tunic before him. Rather, blindly grasping at thin air and praying he would find Arthur there somewhere…
After that, things became significantly blurred…until he was here; outside the secret entrance to the Place where the Dragon was being imprisoned, as he had been for many years… To come here was, almost instinctive when he was in a time of trouble or need…maybe that was what had drawn him here?
He would have taken the time to muse that fact over…but for that, in the next moment, he had taken an impromptu somersault…
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"Merlin… Merlin…"
A loud voice pulsed between his eyes, dancing in the exact same spot where the warmth and comfort of the alcohol was radiating from…at first, his mind rationalised a dozen or so peculiar reasons someone was calling him telepathically…all ludicrously ridiculous of course… For example, since when did the Royal Prat have telepathy…?
The voice grew significantly impatient. "MERLIN! Come to Me!"
The young warlock cringed slightly, feeling the brunt of the call directly on this strange ache that was gripping about the edges of his mind like the vice he had seen at the Blacksmiths' once; there was also an unpleasant taste of bile creeping up from seemingly nowhere, within his mouth…
Rationality fled into the deep night as he suddenly realised there was something still gripped in his right hand, also that he was sitting in a puddle on the floor; but that didn't really enter into his wavy, distorted thought patterns…
Half-full, it's contents sloshed messily down the stairs, on the floor beneath him and, indeed, all down his front; was a flagon of the sweet-smelling liquid he had been imbibing all night long…never had he seen anything so beautiful!
Carefully looking to his right, then to his left with eyes narrowed –as if the walls were spying upon him- Merlin leant in and gave in a quick kiss; then downed the entire lot in a single gulp…feeling the paralysing ache in his mind loose its tendrils when the warm fuzz returned…he sighed in relief.
Though one could say, that relief was short lived, for again, came the booming voice, "MERLIN, COME TO ME!"
However this time, he stumbled to his feet, staggering and giggling like a child just learned to walk; the walls were shifting in a manner he had never seen before, and the tunnel was most misleading, several times shifting position so he would run –face-first- into the hard stone… So fed up with this, the manservant paused, and began to yell at it loudly, finger wagging most menacingly…
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Leaping in fright as he heard the voice call again, Merlin turned and stumbled like a newborn foal down the remaining few feet of corridor between him and his final objective…
Finally, the small corridor of hewn stone opened into a vast chamber, wide and dimly-lit…so dimly-lit in fact, that he had to fall to his knees in order to stop the rolling floor from pitching him head-first off the small, broken rock bridge, in the darkness. Air whooshed past like a gale, wings flapped with the effort of moving a great body, and the ever-present chain clanked like a death-rattle…
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He-Who-Called-To-Drunken-Warlocks sat proudly upon his normal perch, wisdom etched into the face that had seen so much and was giving it all in mysterious pieces to the human before him; yet…this time, he wrinkled his nose and craned his neck back from the gangly creature before him. The one who was avidly holding on to the stationary rock shelf he knelt upon, as if his life depended on it…
"Merlin…Merlin, what have you done to yourself…?" he asked, half in concern at the pallid shade the one who visited his prison wore, and half in surprise, for this behaviour was most uncommon for the young magic-user…
Slowly, the blue eyes left the floor as the shaking eased, mildly bloody hands left the jagged, rocky floor and lifted to meet his own sizeable orbs for a mere second…before the Warlock started to giggle, and hit the ground, clutching his stomach…
As if this was not strange enough, the Ancient Creature nearly fell off his perch when the boy next uttered the [what he seemed to believe to be] wisdom-laden words…
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"You're a Dragon!" he shouted from a suddenly-dry throat…and began to laugh anew, rolling on the floor… The Great Golden beast glared at him balefully, as if he couldn't quite understand what was wrong with him…and a strange thought entered his head, the Dragon wanted his Ale!
Clasping the almost-empty-bar-the-barest-remnants-of-liquid-flagon to his sodden chest protectively, he turned and yelled, "You can't have it, she's mine! My drinking-thingy! Leave her alone or I'll…I'll…I'll tell Gaius!" His eyes flared a brilliant gold; chunks of nearby rock picked up and threw themselves towards the Dragon whist the inebriated Warlock continued to smother the cup with his love and affection. Hiding it from the other's view…
Luckily, for the Dragon, it seemed Merlin was far too drunk to do anything more than toss the rocks a few feet…where they immediately stopped mid-air and fell down into the bottomless chasm at their feet… Golden jaws opened, a small chuckle issued forth as Merlin eyed him with suspicion…
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"Calm, Merlin, I would not take your…love… from you," he reassured the other; vaguely wondering how long it would take Gaius to come and reclaim the boy…surely this…ailment, had to have a cure amongst the man's veritable arsenal of potions and herb lore?
Even as traitorous thoughts such as these spun through his mind, the Warlock on which they were focussed seemed to be getting closer to the edge of the bridge, flinging more and more rocks, pebbles –and dust, it seemed- as he shuffled forwards. Each time the objects encroached closer and closer into his personal space, and were finally brushed aside by his wings, like annoying insects…
He craned his head forwards to look at the pale yet flushed features of the boy, he shook slightly, eyelids fluttering…it was far past a time any could call a reasonable bedtime, though he suspected it was more the alcohol consumed than anything else. The loss of co-ordination was most disturbing though…should he attempt to make it back to the Quarters he shared with the elderly physician…there was no telling what damage he could do, nor the limit to the strange, dangerous and remarkable enchantments he may cast by inebriated accident…
What if Uther was to see such a thing? Surely the boy would be burned alive for it, Prince's manservant or not…
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If the world would stop shaking like it was an Earth tremor, there might be a chance he could actually aim and strike the dragon who taunted him, trying to steal his flagon away, to have her all to himself…
Hands trembling involuntarily, Merlin stepped forwards, and forwards again, finding that his 'attacks' were more effective the closer he came…then he stumbled, a foot short of seeing exactly how far down the chasm went, and watched in slow-motion horror as his beloved drinking cup fell into the dark void…
"Nooooooooooooooooooooo!" he cried, and jerked upright unsteadily, making to leap forwards and- and what? Niggled a tiny portion of his brain, but the warm fuzz allowed no other thought than that of 'Must save drinking-thingy' to escape through the muddled logic that would see him do something incredibly stupid…
"MERLIN!" cried the Dragon in alarm, as he leapt…only to find himself falling back on the ground, a harsh, scorching wind pushing his body along the rock until it rested against a wall. He sat there dazedly, blinking and staring at his hands, which were –for some strange, illogical reason- absolutely fascinating…
He looked up to the dragon and said, with great Vehemency, "My hands are Magical!"
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There was wonder and amazement in the tone, as if it were a just-discovered fact; despite the fact he was only alive because he, the Dragon, had thought such a thing would occur, and sent a controlled burst of fire at the Magic-User…not enough to harm, just push back…nudge in the right direction, so to speak…
Impatiently, he nudged the mind of the one who came in haste; for the man was slow moving, and there was urgency in the situation…and then Merlin began to cry… "Sh-she's gone! I'll never see her again!" he cried, looking forlornly towards where the flagon had disappeared; the Dragon sighed, rolling his great eyes and mentally searching for the chalice amongst hundred of other treasures that had fallen in countless centuries…
With a small exclamation, he felt the correct object soaring up to meet the pair…Merlin's eyes lit up when he saw…her, reappear…and stopped his seemingly ceaseless sobbing the instant the drinking implement was in view; and wrapped his arms about it with great affection the moment it came to him, where he knelt in despair.
The Dragon had had enough, this was becoming more absurd every second it was allowed to continue, surely the boy would hurt himself soon? He devised a plan…
"Merlin…? Look at me." He commanded.
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Booming as always, though spoken gently, the Dragon asked for something he would freely give…his attention…just as long as he didn't have to give up h-
Oh…the golden orbs of the ancient creature's eyes pulsed and swirled with magic he could not even begin to understand, even sober…the great jaws opened and his heart beat quite fast, under the impression he was about to be eaten…
That is, if the amount of adrenaline coursing through his body could be believed…
He felt warm winds of interesting blues, greens and yellows course over him, and a voice in his head, gently urging…suddenly his knees were unable to hold him upright; the ground met them half-way, and the last thing he knew was the cold hard floor, and Frieda the Flagon, clutched protectively to his chest…
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"Relax, I bear you no ill will…you are safe…Sleep, Merlin…Sleep." He whispered into the Warlock's mind as he allowed his magic to wash over the other; feeling great satisfaction as the boy's sapphire blue eyes rolled back in his head, knees crashing to the ground. Finally falling to enchanted-slumber with his beloved-drinking implement clutched tightly to his tunic…
Finally, as the last traces of his power faded, the Court Physician bustled in…taken aback by the absurd situation; Gaius looked to him with questioning eyes, he sighed and knelt by Merlin, seemingly not wanting to know. For someone his age, the fact he not only lifted Merlin, but began to carry him off and up to their shared Quarters, was most impressive; a look passed between he and the conscious human…And then he was gone.
Well, that was amusing… he thought, turning back to the dreary dark of the caves…and started to laugh.
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What was with this day?
A few uncharitable thoughts about the King filtered through his mind but halted before they flew from his mouth…
First he awakens clutching a flagon of all things, like a lover…then Gaius made a few choice jests about the state he had apparently arrived home in late last night –though it was all a blur- and then, even after listening to every single lecture Gaius had seemingly ever invented…the man still held out on giving him a cure for this pounding ache that echoed through every pore of his body…
To be fair, he hadn't given any of those who drank last night the remedy, which meant he had to pad softly to Arthur's Chambers and close the door with all possible care…though the whisper-soft 'clunk' still made both occupants groan; not to mention, everytime the guards clanked past, wearing all that damned armour and swishing chainmail!
He seriously considered blowing his cover and using magic to silence them…surely being burnt alive would be a nice reprieve from this torment?
Arthur mumbled into the pillows, Merlin winced, but moved closer all the same… "Wh-what was that…you giant prat?" he whispered as low as possible, to which the other responded by making a vague swipe at him, and whispering back, "If it wouldn't make so much noise, I would kill you right now Merlin…you know that, don't you?"
The man-servant didn't dare nod, lest he move the ache in his mind about… "Sire…you have to get up, you and the other's have already missed-…" And then the world became unbearably loud…
Uther burst in, like a hurricane…a loud hurricane full of sheep and goats, and other bleaty-noise-making things… "Why were you not on patrol this morning? And Where are the other Knights?" he demanded, to which Arthur replied by stuffing the pillow he was face-down upon, over his ears…
Merlin, having no such item of luxury, hand to deal with cringing in a far-corner, with hands pressed over his ears…at least, until a feather-filled object of mercy struck him with an almost illegally loud 'Pumph!' He covered his ears also as Uther continued to rant on about duty, honour, blah, blah, blah…
"FATHER!" rasped the Prince, in the quietest yell/loudest whisper the kingdom had ever heard, "Can you not see we are suffering here? Would you please lower your voice?" pleaded the Prince as his face turned to face the King from under the pillow. It seemed at that moment, Uther noticed little things, like his son trying to stifle the overly-loud sound of silence –and more recently, his voice- with a pillow, as was his manservant…
"You are Hungover, are you not?" he asked the room in general, to which Arthur groaned in affirmative…whereas Merlin merely looked incredulous, "Is that all it is? I thought I was dying…" he whispered, made a raspy laugh and laid down on the cool stone that covered the floor; back to the royal pair. Likewise, Arthur also covered his head again; Uther looked between them both with surprise, "I take it…you instigated a Drinking Contest in the Halls again, after I left?" he asked the Prince's bare back…which was about all that could be seen of him from under the covers…
"Ugh…yes, he did, now please lower your voice…" he whispered back at the King, not even caring if the question was not directed at him; there was a moment's silence before the King again spoke, "Why have you not been to see Gaius? Surely he-…"
"…-is refusing to give anyone anything right now, he thinks it's only fair we all suffer along with his precious Merlin…" stated the Prince; Merlin stiffened, "Wait, what? He told me I couldn't have any until the Knights realised the error of their ways and ceased drinking…or the world ends…" he retorted, wishing the latter would occur any second, and sinking back to the ground again. "And to think," he said to the wall, "I listened to every one of his lectures about drinking and in the end, he wouldn't even-…"
"I take it, this is your first time?" inquired an amused Uther, but his eyes were closed; so Arthur answered, "I may have brought this doom upon us all by initiating Merlin into the ways of drinking…if you see them, tell the other Knights I'm sorry, and that it was my fault. At least I can save myself if one of them reacts badly to the news…by the way, has anyone seen the missing flagon…Merlin?" jested the Prince, knowingly.
Said Man-servant coughed into his hand, regretting the movement and clutching his head gingerly, "I refuse to acknowledge that statement…Sire" he ground out…
Uther gave up looking for meaning in the strange conversation and turned to leave, pausing at the door to mutter, "I shall grant you, the Knights and your manservant a reprieve this once…I too, remember my first Hangover, Merlin…in my nightmares…"
And he was gone…Leaving the Prince and Secret Warlock to groan in unison and settle to sleep upon their respective pillows…
Maybe this day wasn't so bad after all…
THE END
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~Thanks for Reading, hope you liked it...as I said, random idea!
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~*SailorSilvanesti*~