Short Story: Merlin
Arthur tapped Fredrick's left shoulder with Excalibur and then his right. "Arise, Sir Fredrick, Knight of Camelot and defender of the crown."
"Heaven help me," he prayed under his breath before rising to his feet. Arthur had a small smirk on his face as if he'd heard the comment and Fredrick wasn't entirely sure how to take the king pleasure in his discomfort. He was a knight of Camelot now, a place he'd never aspired to. His fellows who really knew him would do the same when they found out.
"Now, take your place beside Lady Guinevere. You'll remain her personal guard with no other duty than to protect her in my absence." Well, that didn't sound too onerous. It was what he'd been doing already.
"On my honor and my life, Your Highness." That …show more content…
was the easy part. Becoming a noble in the wink of an eye was another. He had a title now and being addressed as sir or my lord was a little unsettling to him. There was some measure of comfort in the entitlements that accompanied such rank and privilege, though he did wonder how often he'd be required to wear that confounded red cloak. It held few benefits, a hindrance in fact, like painting a large target on his back and a sign saying please shoot me. It was no more than a symbol of power, status, and identity coveted by the sons of nobility. No one else with any common sense would wear such an observable color. Please, God. Let his civilian clothes be enough.
"I know you will." Arthur was pleased with Fredrick's service and devotion to Gwen, safe in the knowledge that he would not leave her side even if he'd order him. The man was practically her shadow these days, no doubt also her friend.
The king returned to his chair and Fredrick sat in the vacancy on Gwen's left. Her proud and satisfied smile greeted him when he looked at his charge. He couldn't help but smile back, maybe for the first time in a long time. A few months ago, she was just an assignment, one of great importance of course, but with no real personal feelings involved. Their paths had never crossed enough for him to get to know her until he'd been singled out for such a mission. He could never have fathomed how entwined their lives would become, her presence as essential to his existence as breathing was. Perhaps, this wouldn't be so bad after all, cape notwithstanding.
"Welcome to the club," Gwaine drawled with a devilish smile. "You thought life was good as a soldier. Wait until the ladies see you in a cape. They'll be fighting to get it off of you." He wiggled his eyebrows to stress his point, his grin all teeth. A few snorts escaped from the other knights and the king just palmed his cheek. Gwen did not appreciate the comment either.
Fredrick rolled his eyes. There was his answer. Frivolity and the delights of the flesh. Nothing about the honor and danger of his new position, only a poor display of shallow minds. He was old, perhaps twice the age of the oldest of anyone in the room except Gaius. He'd had his fill of women since his wife passed long ago, and none of them could capture his heart. That now belonged to Gwen, the daughter he'd never thought to have, and right now, there was no room for anyone else.
Arthur reclined in his chair and paid each one of them a thoughtful glance, except Gwaine. His was more with annoyance. Percival sat to his left, then Gwaine and Merlin. Gaius was nearer Guinevere at the other end. On his right sat Elyan and Ranulf, and then Fredrick further down. He rested his gaze upon Gwen before flickering a glance to a rigid and uncertain Merlin. Where to begin?
"For some time now we've been under protection." The reaction was slow to come, confusion predominating the knights' expressions. They were the ones who provided security for the kingdom, a shield to its citizens. The last and best chance of defeating any threat did not need protection, nor did they want it.
"What do you mean, Arthur?" Ranulf asked, the dark-haired knight one of the king's oldest friends. He'd been with Arthur those early days upon meeting Merlin, was there with him during their clash in the market. Ranulf had played right along with his arrogance back then. The prince had withdrawn from that caliber of men shortly thereafter, and in time, so had Ranulf. Merlin's company proved more rewarding than the bullies in the knights' corps and Ranulf found the arms of a woman, his present wife Olivia. He had changed, too. They had all grown since then.
Somewhat ignoring answering the question directly, Arthur plowed on. The meaning would become clear shortly. "Percival, you reported two suspicious deaths you believe not the result of battle."
"Yes, my lord," Percival agreed.
"We discovered the apothecary poisoned on Merlin's cot. He'd been dead long before we'd gotten there."
Merlin bristled, mouth dropping open in an unseemly manner. "What?"
"It was made to look like he was sleeping," Gwaine added, eyeing the warlock with a barely beheld twinkle.
"Could no one have told me this sooner?" Merlin was entirely indignant, grimacing at how he'd relished every moment of being back in his own bed last night. Several ways of torturing Maxwell flashed through Merlin's head. Maybe he'd include Gwaine and Percival, too, since he could see just how amused the knights were. "I slept in that bed."
"So did I," said Gwaine with a now much more conspicuous sly grin. Before then, he'd never realized what a great vantage point Merlin's room had. He'd witnessed the magic being performed by Maxwell to save that young woman's life, Isolde he learned was her name. "I didn't see any problem with it."
"Gwaine, you'd sleep with a—"
"Merlin," Arthur huffed in irritation, putting a stop to the banter before it started. Those two had a way of turning harmless teasing into foul insults not acceptable to anyone's ears, let alone a lady's. "We have more serious matters on hand. Percival, the one found in the officer
barracks…"
"The battle never reached that part of the castle. He was the only casualty we found in the area. There were signs of a struggle. His throat was cut."
"Why these men," Gwaine voiced what everyone else had been asking themselves. "Why were they singled out?"
"Because they were sorcerers," Arthur replied. The quiet was instant. The intensity rose as troubled glances flew around the room, harder ones falling on the king. "Two out of the three in Morgana's service."
"Someone killed them before the battle," Gwaine surmised, his widened gaze the only indication of his shock.
"To increase our chances of defeating Morgana," the king emphasized. "Even she had been rendered powerless. Someone helped us." Confusion again crossed the faces of those not fully aware of the circumstances, as if it were very hard to grasp the meaning of Arthur's words.
"Who?" Elyan asked.
"Another sorcerer," Arthur said with conviction. "A powerful one." Silence greeted his bold assertion before their voices erupted in torrents of disbelief. Arthur heard every one of them.
"You've got to be kidding," said Ranulf, sounding more outraged than outright angry.
"That can't be," Elyan retorted, the denial was almost a snort. "We've stood well on our own merit."
"Jupiter's balls! Really?" Gwaine exclaimed, paying Merlin an amused, yet speculative glance. Merlin noticed and raised an eyebrow and stared back boldly while trying not to look guilty.
"Gwaine!" Arthur admonished just as Fredrick warned the other knight to hold his tongue. Such language in the presence of a lady, the future queen no less, was most inappropriate. He didn't care how friendly terms they might be on, but wouldn't tolerate such disrespect in front of her.
"Sorry, Gwen," Gwaine apologized, his embarrassment fleeting to return to the fray. "How powerful is he is, then?"
"Heaven help me," he prayed under his breath before rising to his feet. Arthur had a small smirk on his face as if he'd heard the comment and Fredrick wasn't entirely sure how to take the king pleasure in his discomfort. He was a knight of Camelot now, a place he'd never aspired to. His fellows who really knew him would do the same when they found out.
"Now, take your place beside Lady Guinevere. You'll remain her personal guard with no other duty than to protect her in my absence." Well, that didn't sound too onerous. It was what he'd been doing already.
"On my honor and my life, Your Highness." That …show more content…
was the easy part. Becoming a noble in the wink of an eye was another. He had a title now and being addressed as sir or my lord was a little unsettling to him. There was some measure of comfort in the entitlements that accompanied such rank and privilege, though he did wonder how often he'd be required to wear that confounded red cloak. It held few benefits, a hindrance in fact, like painting a large target on his back and a sign saying please shoot me. It was no more than a symbol of power, status, and identity coveted by the sons of nobility. No one else with any common sense would wear such an observable color. Please, God. Let his civilian clothes be enough.
"I know you will." Arthur was pleased with Fredrick's service and devotion to Gwen, safe in the knowledge that he would not leave her side even if he'd order him. The man was practically her shadow these days, no doubt also her friend.
The king returned to his chair and Fredrick sat in the vacancy on Gwen's left. Her proud and satisfied smile greeted him when he looked at his charge. He couldn't help but smile back, maybe for the first time in a long time. A few months ago, she was just an assignment, one of great importance of course, but with no real personal feelings involved. Their paths had never crossed enough for him to get to know her until he'd been singled out for such a mission. He could never have fathomed how entwined their lives would become, her presence as essential to his existence as breathing was. Perhaps, this wouldn't be so bad after all, cape notwithstanding.
"Welcome to the club," Gwaine drawled with a devilish smile. "You thought life was good as a soldier. Wait until the ladies see you in a cape. They'll be fighting to get it off of you." He wiggled his eyebrows to stress his point, his grin all teeth. A few snorts escaped from the other knights and the king just palmed his cheek. Gwen did not appreciate the comment either.
Fredrick rolled his eyes. There was his answer. Frivolity and the delights of the flesh. Nothing about the honor and danger of his new position, only a poor display of shallow minds. He was old, perhaps twice the age of the oldest of anyone in the room except Gaius. He'd had his fill of women since his wife passed long ago, and none of them could capture his heart. That now belonged to Gwen, the daughter he'd never thought to have, and right now, there was no room for anyone else.
Arthur reclined in his chair and paid each one of them a thoughtful glance, except Gwaine. His was more with annoyance. Percival sat to his left, then Gwaine and Merlin. Gaius was nearer Guinevere at the other end. On his right sat Elyan and Ranulf, and then Fredrick further down. He rested his gaze upon Gwen before flickering a glance to a rigid and uncertain Merlin. Where to begin?
"For some time now we've been under protection." The reaction was slow to come, confusion predominating the knights' expressions. They were the ones who provided security for the kingdom, a shield to its citizens. The last and best chance of defeating any threat did not need protection, nor did they want it.
"What do you mean, Arthur?" Ranulf asked, the dark-haired knight one of the king's oldest friends. He'd been with Arthur those early days upon meeting Merlin, was there with him during their clash in the market. Ranulf had played right along with his arrogance back then. The prince had withdrawn from that caliber of men shortly thereafter, and in time, so had Ranulf. Merlin's company proved more rewarding than the bullies in the knights' corps and Ranulf found the arms of a woman, his present wife Olivia. He had changed, too. They had all grown since then.
Somewhat ignoring answering the question directly, Arthur plowed on. The meaning would become clear shortly. "Percival, you reported two suspicious deaths you believe not the result of battle."
"Yes, my lord," Percival agreed.
"We discovered the apothecary poisoned on Merlin's cot. He'd been dead long before we'd gotten there."
Merlin bristled, mouth dropping open in an unseemly manner. "What?"
"It was made to look like he was sleeping," Gwaine added, eyeing the warlock with a barely beheld twinkle.
"Could no one have told me this sooner?" Merlin was entirely indignant, grimacing at how he'd relished every moment of being back in his own bed last night. Several ways of torturing Maxwell flashed through Merlin's head. Maybe he'd include Gwaine and Percival, too, since he could see just how amused the knights were. "I slept in that bed."
"So did I," said Gwaine with a now much more conspicuous sly grin. Before then, he'd never realized what a great vantage point Merlin's room had. He'd witnessed the magic being performed by Maxwell to save that young woman's life, Isolde he learned was her name. "I didn't see any problem with it."
"Gwaine, you'd sleep with a—"
"Merlin," Arthur huffed in irritation, putting a stop to the banter before it started. Those two had a way of turning harmless teasing into foul insults not acceptable to anyone's ears, let alone a lady's. "We have more serious matters on hand. Percival, the one found in the officer
barracks…"
"The battle never reached that part of the castle. He was the only casualty we found in the area. There were signs of a struggle. His throat was cut."
"Why these men," Gwaine voiced what everyone else had been asking themselves. "Why were they singled out?"
"Because they were sorcerers," Arthur replied. The quiet was instant. The intensity rose as troubled glances flew around the room, harder ones falling on the king. "Two out of the three in Morgana's service."
"Someone killed them before the battle," Gwaine surmised, his widened gaze the only indication of his shock.
"To increase our chances of defeating Morgana," the king emphasized. "Even she had been rendered powerless. Someone helped us." Confusion again crossed the faces of those not fully aware of the circumstances, as if it were very hard to grasp the meaning of Arthur's words.
"Who?" Elyan asked.
"Another sorcerer," Arthur said with conviction. "A powerful one." Silence greeted his bold assertion before their voices erupted in torrents of disbelief. Arthur heard every one of them.
"You've got to be kidding," said Ranulf, sounding more outraged than outright angry.
"That can't be," Elyan retorted, the denial was almost a snort. "We've stood well on our own merit."
"Jupiter's balls! Really?" Gwaine exclaimed, paying Merlin an amused, yet speculative glance. Merlin noticed and raised an eyebrow and stared back boldly while trying not to look guilty.
"Gwaine!" Arthur admonished just as Fredrick warned the other knight to hold his tongue. Such language in the presence of a lady, the future queen no less, was most inappropriate. He didn't care how friendly terms they might be on, but wouldn't tolerate such disrespect in front of her.
"Sorry, Gwen," Gwaine apologized, his embarrassment fleeting to return to the fray. "How powerful is he is, then?"