"When Words Live" (Rose)
The morning is surprisingly routine for what has gone on days before, with the exception of the earlier waking. However, I am totally willing to accommodate Merlin. He works himself more than anyone, besides Gaius and me, could understand.
"You are going to love it," Merlin broods on the way to a part of the castle I've never really paid much attention to. Not on purpose, my ventures just never steered me in this direction, but I am happy to be exploring it now.
I am even more pleased to see Geoffrey of Monmouth in his natural habitat, so to speak. Geoffrey is the Court Genealogist and the royal librarian. I've seen him in passing and, most often, at work. He is bent over parchment on his desk, we approach him calmly. Merlin opens his mouth to greet the elderly gentleman but is stopped by the man's raised hand. After an awkward second, I clear my throat.
"Good morning, Geoffrey," I say brightly with a grin.
He flicks his head upward, looking at us for the first time. "Yes?"
Merlin manages a smile and half laughs. "Gaius asked me to fetch a book, the- uh- The Bestiary of Phylum of Cambria?"
"The Bestiary?" he repeats thoughtfully. "I haven't seen that for many years."
"Where might we find it?" I ask, curious as to if it will be a problem to find it if it has indeed been that long.
"It'll be somewhere in the east wing," he says. "No idea where."
"I'm sure it's around here somewhere." My smile falters when Merlin begins to traipse away to the wrong wing. "Merlin ..."
"East ..." Geoffrey catches his eyes. I nearly laugh aloud at his raised eyebrows cueing in on his cluelessness at the moment. "... Is that way," Geoffrey concludes, pointing the other way.
Merlin's gaze shoots over his shoulder a few times, avoiding me the whole time. "Yeah," he mutters as if he had known the whole time. He spins around and walks past me like nothing ever happened. I do try my greatest to keep from giggling as I follow.
Many paces down, I feel a strange pull to search down a particular aisle of books. "What about here?" I ask Merlin who still has not made eye contact with me. He stops and turns back around, peering at the shelves.
"Might as well give it a go," he says, walking amongst the dust covered book spines with golden lettering, whispering their identities through our eyesight. We look from shelf to shelf, at first not seeming to find much of anything. We halt somewhere near to the end of the aisle on the opposite side from which we entered. I glance at the top shelf in passing and a specific tome above us steals my attention.
"That's it! There," I point at it with glee.
Merlin's eyes trail slowly upward. His eyes squint in the wrong spot.
"Not there," I correct. "There!" I try to direct him more emphatically.
His eyebrows knit together at the black volume with the red label bearing the same title we were searching for near the top of the bookcase that stands much taller than we do. "Great," he utters with an apparent lack of enthusiasm. He steps up to the case resolutely, and begins to poorly attempting to reach it by hopping up and down with his arm outstretched.
"That is one good way to get a concussion," I say, teasing him, but remaining serious at the same time. He really could receive a nice knock in the skull from one of those monster sized editions.
"Thanks for the sympathy," he says in jest, stepping onto one of the lower shelves. His foot slips, but not from a lack of grip. A panel flips downward and the bookcase begins to spiral into the wall. A panicked and perplexed expression crosses Merlin's face as I react in reflex, take a few short, running steps, and press my body into the moving wall.
As soon as the revolution ceases, Merlin steps off of the thing and I turn to see the dank room in which we've wound up. Strange statutes and relics are scattered around near litters of old parchments and tattered books. This place has not been occupied in many years judging by the thick amounts of dust and draperies of cobwebs.
Merlin tentatively steps further into the room. I do so a bit more briskly. The air of mystery is compelling to me. "This place is incredible," I gape. "If only it weren't so dirty ..."
Merlin's eyes lock on an object and he pulls it from its place. "What is that?" I look around the side of his shoulder, which is as close as I'll ever get to looking over his shoulder.
"I don't know," he says quietly with a quizzical, hard gaze at the large book in his hands. He opens the book and slowly starts to flip through it, page by page. The pictures are colorful, and the words are ancient script. He sets it back down, closing it carefully, and surveys the rest of the room cautiously.
Moving towards the other wall, his foot smacks into an oblong wooden box shaped like an octagon. Much to our surprise and, ultimately, dismay, a groan leaks out of the wood. Merlin turns around with wide eyes, trying to pinpoint the origin of the noise.
"Uhm," I motion toward the wooden case with a ridiculously shocked expression. It rattles a bit and something inside bangs against what sounds like metal lining of some sort.
His eyes drop to the object. "Oh, good, you hear it, too."
The thing rattles around, grunting in frustration. Perhaps, I'd be laughing at the expression on Merlin's face if I did not feel the awkward bulging of my eyes from bafflement. His brow furrows as he kneels to the ground.
"Are you actually going to open it?!" I puzzle.
"Maybe," he glances over it curiously, noticing it isn't upright. "I don't know yet." He wraps his arms around the sides of the box and positions it top-up.
"I really don't think this is a good idea..." I warn as Merlin's fingers find the latches.
"Well, we're about to find out, aren't we?" he asks as he twists the thing around so that the opening is facing him. He pauses, only briefly, holds out his hand, and mutters a spell. The binding snaps back.
"I guess so," I comment with growing anticipation and caution.
Merlin slowly pries the lid back from the rest of the container. Against my better judgment, I lean in to see if I can catch a glimpse of whatever is in there.
At first, there seems to be nothing but the darkness. We reel back in fright when a green creature of some sort hops out of its prison. I let out a little yelp as Merlin falls promptly onto his back. I then swiftly slap my hand over my mouth. The ... thing ... appears to be rather amused by this. "Boo!" it jeers.
"Very funny," I remark snidely, taking notice of its blue tinted ponytail. His eyes are a strange gold color and his two feet tall body is marked with tattoos. He wears only shorts, and would look to be like a tiny green man, were it not for his three claws for toes and ridiculously pointed ears ... and nose. He has only four fingers on each hand and is adorned with a gold bracelet and a few earrings.
After a moment of our bewildered silence and observation period, it speaks again. "Are you gonna say something, or shall I?"
"Was that an attempt at being polite?" I inquire with disapproval.
All Merlin can manage is, "You can speak ..." He is totally throw off, and I am more on the infuriated side.
"You're a sharp one," it jabs, and then proceeds to stretch with a few more groans. "Ah," he winces. "I can't tell you how good it feels to be able to do that." He lengthens his limbs. "And that." He shifts to a back stretch. "And thissss."
"Sh-sh-sh!" Merlin hushes him, finally starting to sit up.
"I have been squished and squashed inside that box for more than fifty years," it complains, and loudly, I might add.
"He's right! Someone's going to hear you!" But he does not heed my correction either.
"Time to have some fun!" He jumps over our heads, whooping as he knocks over a few most likely priceless items, sending them clattering to the floor from the top of one of the displays.
"What are you doing!?" I yell in a harsh whisper while Merlin rises from his spot on the dust-covered floor.
"There you go!" the creature chucks a vase at Merlin, who catches it, as soon as he is standing.
"Have fun quietly," Merlin tries the happier, more carefree approach, setting the pottery down. "Very quietly!" he shields himself from the books the thing now throws at him.
"Because he's clearly a listener," I say sarcastically, feeling the comical side of this situation starting to get to me.
"Uh-oh," it says as it tips another piece of pottery near the edge of the bookcase.
"No," Merlin warns. "You are going to get us both into serious trouble!"
"Glad to know you care, Merlin," I comment warily as the little devil utters feigned distress over the vase that shatters as it hits the stone.
"Oh, dear! What a shame. Never mind," it says, sending Merlin over the edge.
"Right! That's it." he takes on a tone of authority about to blow. "You are going back in that box while I ... work out what to do with you."
Even Merlin doesn't sound convinced.
"Oh, alright," the creature's head dips in what looks like shame. He sputters, making his own lip quiver falsely. "If I really must." I decide upon keeping it to myself that he is faking. I did warn Merlin after all, and he's looking rather pleased with himself, which makes it that much more entertaining for me.
The thing slumps its shoulders and waddles sadly over to its former cage, giving Merlin a pitiful look seeking mercy.
"In," Merlin demands with a tilt of his head in the direction of the box.
"Oh," it whines at the hardened glint in Merlin's eye, the shock still present.
"Merlin," I call as it crouches over the hole that would swallow him up in a nearly sing-songy tone ... nearly.
"Haha! Fooled you!" it jibes as it leaps onto the top of Merlin's head. I clutch at my stomach, beginning to ache with laughter. Merlin is furious. It jumps off and Merlin turns around to see where it went.
He huffs, sounding very much like an angered father. "Stop messing around!"
Gathering the seriousness of the moment once more, I spot the ruffle of some hanging fabric. "There!" I point, and the creeping search is on.
Muffled laughter and a few clangs of metal resound before we peer around the corner of one of the shelves. The ... whatever it is ... "Ooo's" as it sifts through a chest. It proclaims a few "nah's" of displeasure, chucking some things overhead- its head, anyways.
"What's it looking for?" I whisper in a voice that's barely audible. Truly, no one hears. Merlin is now advancing on the thing with an old, holey tarp of some kind.
"Maybe!" it says in response to an object it finds, and then, the "nah's" resume. A glass item nearly smacks into Merlin, but he noiselessly sidesteps it. I find myself holding my breath as he closes in on it.
"Got you," he says breathlessly as he tosses the fabric onto the creature. He grabs onto it, struggling momentarily. Its grunts of protest suddenly become more high-pitched as the figure beneath the tarp shrinks.
"What happened?" I ask, my eyes darting around for a sign of where it ran off.
"I have no idea," Merlin answers, shaking out the material, just in case. He stares at it in wonder, and his wonder quickly turns to surprise yet again as a glowing orb of light pops up before his eyes. The light flitters away and through the shelves and vanishes through the crack in the wall where the bookcase revolves. "No," Merlin says in disbelief.
Without another thought, and one "I'm not going to say I told you so," from me, we follow it into the library.
"Like Nothing Happened" (Merlin)
The spin returns the bookcase to its original position. I step away, not waiting for it to click into place. That ... thing ... is now flying about the castle, and who knows what damage it's going to do ... or what kind of damage Arthur and his father will inflict upon me should they find out it was I who released it?
"Which way did it go?" I ask Rose as she looks from side to side, up and down. A hard object smacks into my back right as I finish my question. I turn around to see it atop of another bookcase.
"Bullseye!" it proclaims in triumph.
"Someone's going to see you," I hiss.
"Really?" the thing questions loudly and sarcastically, kicking another set of books sprawling onto the ground with papery thunks. "I was just having a little tidy up. Do you wanna get rid of all of this nasty mess up here? Nobody's had a brush up here for years."
As the thing proceeds to rant and kick, Rose points out the Bestiary, directing my attention to its newfound place on the floor. "There's one good thing," she mutters.
"Look at this old- oh- right. That's enough. I'm off."
"Off!? Off to where?!" Rose exclaims as I grab the book. We set off in a run after the little beast.
As I round the corner first, she grabs my arm, "Merlin," she warns softly.
It was well off she did. I completely forgot about Geoffrey. Time to act like nothing happened ... This is too normal of a pattern for us.
He glances my way. I stop and smile widely. All he does is stare at me like a foreign script he has never seen before and finds quite odd. "Found it," I state happily, the Bestiary at my side, between my arm and my torso. It's clear that he can tell, and he makes no comment. Rose thanks him politely for his time. He nods silently. I begin to walk past awkwardly, scanning the nearby area for any sign of the ... thing. She follows close behind.
Once we are out of earshot, I ask, "Did you see anything?"
"No," Rose responds with an edge of worry in her voice.
We charge up the stairs in search and turn a few corners to find a minor catastrophe. The blasted thing got here first. We stop in front of a corridor leading to the royal chambers. It is completely cluttered with items that have been carelessly knocked down and tossed about. This is going to take a lot of explaining.
It's moments like these when I am even more grateful that I don't have to do any of this alone if I so choose.