Now I'm feeling it even more
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camelot_drabbleAuthor:kleinefee92
Title: Now I'm feeling it even more
Rating: G
Pairing: AlwaysaGirl!Merlin/Arthur
Characters: AlwaysaGirl!Merlin, Arthur
Summary: That all-important array of metal needs selecting, and Merlin and Arthur are on the case.
Word Count: 850
Prompt:Gold
Author's Notes: Hey, ducklings! Long time no see. This is a missing scene from the main story arc of my Unstoppable Force 'verse, which is touched on briefly in chapter five, though I don't think you need to read anything else from this 'verse in order for it to make sense. The title for this piece comes from the Cranberries' Dreams.
Now I'm feeling it even more
Generations of kings and queens of varied taste all had a hand in vast array of finery in the Pendragon vaults. Coronets, diadems, crowns, and circlets, along with every other sort of bauble a member of the royal family could dream up and demand surrounded the young couple standing together in the middle of the room. One crown in particular sat apart from the rest, its pedestal a place of honor, the surface gleaming and regal in its relative simplicity. Drawn to it instinctively, Merlin stepped forward and reached out a reverent hand, careful not to touch, yet needing to feel closer to the imprint of the one who once wore it with grace and genteel pride.
“That was my mother’s crown. My father offered her the choice of any crown in the vault, and that was the one she chose. According to him, my mother always had rather conservative taste.” Arthur’s voice held a wistful note that only crept in when speaking of his mother, that shadowy figure whose absence was felt so prominently throughout his childhood and his journey to becoming king.
Smiling softly, Merlin took the few steps back toward her king and threaded her fingers through his. Hoping to lift his mood, she teased, “Finally, a royal with a bit of sense.”
His hand squeezed hers, gratitude tilting up the corners of his lips, along with a hint of mischief. “And what would you know about sense, Merlin?”
“Enough to know that it’s something in which you, my King, are sadly lacking.”
A laugh fell unbidden as he shook his head, fondly amused in spite of himself. “Clearly, since for some reason I have decided to make you, of all people, my wife.”
Nodding sagely, Merlin tried and failed to look earnest as she said, “Just one of your many lapses in judgement. Honestly, Arthur, what were you thinking?”
“Aside from how the way you’ve managed to become the single most important person in my life?” Arthur’s eyebrows rose. “I was thinking that no one else should have to be saddled with someone as ridiculous as you.”
This, this was why they worked. Perhaps there was something wrong with them, that they found such ease in tenderness cloaked in barbed comments and backhanded compliments, but then, that simply meant that they were the perfect combination of dysfunctions made functional together. No one else could fill up the slightly uneven and broken parts of themselves quite the same way, and no one else would think to try.
Breaking the stillness that momentarily settled between them, Merlin cast about the room, searching for the answer to the all-important question - at least, so far as the noblewomen and the female members of the castle staff were concerned - of what she should adorn herself with tomorrow, her wedding day. If she were a different person, someone more presumptuous, she might feel tempted to choose the crown which initially caught her eye, but she wasn’t, and so she continued to search elsewhere.
Snorting, Arthur pointed to a tall, ornate affair, that looked less like a crown and more like a monument to some long-dead woman’s vanity and greed, standing easily six inches tall and covered in diamonds and rubies. “This looks like the perfect crown for you.”
“Only if you want me to melt it down or use it as a paperweight. Honestly, how the women who’ve worn that crown managed to avoid breaking their necks is beyond me.” It went on from there, going further and further downhill. Arthur went around the vault room, pointing out the most outrageous pieces, even going to far as to place a few on her head. Each and every one was mocked mercilessly, and they reveled in the chance to let go and have fun with each other for just a little while, the break from their respective duties welcomed with open arms.
Eventually, they knew they needed to come to an actual decision, and as Merlin gazed at the latest in a series of particularly gaudy prospects, she shook her head and declared with finality, “I’m not wearing a crown, Arthur, no matter what anyone says. Nothing that restricts my movements, and that enormous thing definitely would restrict my movements.”
“I thought you might say something like that,” Arthur told her. “Which is why I came here last night and found this.” Here, he drew out a slender gold circlet, presenting it to her and then sliding it gently upon her brow. He took her hands and drew her over to the floor-length mirror kept in the vault for occasions such as this and placed his hands on her shoulders as they peered into the smooth glass together.
Standing there, gazing at herself wearing the simple band of gold, it didn’t matter that she was wearing an old shirt of Arthur’s, long since washed nearly to threads, the once-vibrant crimson faded to a dusky pink, or that her braid was beginning to come undone. For the first time, she truly felt like a queen.
Title: Now I'm feeling it even more
Rating: G
Pairing: AlwaysaGirl!Merlin/Arthur
Characters: AlwaysaGirl!Merlin, Arthur
Summary: That all-important array of metal needs selecting, and Merlin and Arthur are on the case.
Word Count: 850
Prompt:Gold
Author's Notes: Hey, ducklings! Long time no see. This is a missing scene from the main story arc of my Unstoppable Force 'verse, which is touched on briefly in chapter five, though I don't think you need to read anything else from this 'verse in order for it to make sense. The title for this piece comes from the Cranberries' Dreams.
Now I'm feeling it even more
Generations of kings and queens of varied taste all had a hand in vast array of finery in the Pendragon vaults. Coronets, diadems, crowns, and circlets, along with every other sort of bauble a member of the royal family could dream up and demand surrounded the young couple standing together in the middle of the room. One crown in particular sat apart from the rest, its pedestal a place of honor, the surface gleaming and regal in its relative simplicity. Drawn to it instinctively, Merlin stepped forward and reached out a reverent hand, careful not to touch, yet needing to feel closer to the imprint of the one who once wore it with grace and genteel pride.
“That was my mother’s crown. My father offered her the choice of any crown in the vault, and that was the one she chose. According to him, my mother always had rather conservative taste.” Arthur’s voice held a wistful note that only crept in when speaking of his mother, that shadowy figure whose absence was felt so prominently throughout his childhood and his journey to becoming king.
Smiling softly, Merlin took the few steps back toward her king and threaded her fingers through his. Hoping to lift his mood, she teased, “Finally, a royal with a bit of sense.”
His hand squeezed hers, gratitude tilting up the corners of his lips, along with a hint of mischief. “And what would you know about sense, Merlin?”
“Enough to know that it’s something in which you, my King, are sadly lacking.”
A laugh fell unbidden as he shook his head, fondly amused in spite of himself. “Clearly, since for some reason I have decided to make you, of all people, my wife.”
Nodding sagely, Merlin tried and failed to look earnest as she said, “Just one of your many lapses in judgement. Honestly, Arthur, what were you thinking?”
“Aside from how the way you’ve managed to become the single most important person in my life?” Arthur’s eyebrows rose. “I was thinking that no one else should have to be saddled with someone as ridiculous as you.”
This, this was why they worked. Perhaps there was something wrong with them, that they found such ease in tenderness cloaked in barbed comments and backhanded compliments, but then, that simply meant that they were the perfect combination of dysfunctions made functional together. No one else could fill up the slightly uneven and broken parts of themselves quite the same way, and no one else would think to try.
Breaking the stillness that momentarily settled between them, Merlin cast about the room, searching for the answer to the all-important question - at least, so far as the noblewomen and the female members of the castle staff were concerned - of what she should adorn herself with tomorrow, her wedding day. If she were a different person, someone more presumptuous, she might feel tempted to choose the crown which initially caught her eye, but she wasn’t, and so she continued to search elsewhere.
Snorting, Arthur pointed to a tall, ornate affair, that looked less like a crown and more like a monument to some long-dead woman’s vanity and greed, standing easily six inches tall and covered in diamonds and rubies. “This looks like the perfect crown for you.”
“Only if you want me to melt it down or use it as a paperweight. Honestly, how the women who’ve worn that crown managed to avoid breaking their necks is beyond me.” It went on from there, going further and further downhill. Arthur went around the vault room, pointing out the most outrageous pieces, even going to far as to place a few on her head. Each and every one was mocked mercilessly, and they reveled in the chance to let go and have fun with each other for just a little while, the break from their respective duties welcomed with open arms.
Eventually, they knew they needed to come to an actual decision, and as Merlin gazed at the latest in a series of particularly gaudy prospects, she shook her head and declared with finality, “I’m not wearing a crown, Arthur, no matter what anyone says. Nothing that restricts my movements, and that enormous thing definitely would restrict my movements.”
“I thought you might say something like that,” Arthur told her. “Which is why I came here last night and found this.” Here, he drew out a slender gold circlet, presenting it to her and then sliding it gently upon her brow. He took her hands and drew her over to the floor-length mirror kept in the vault for occasions such as this and placed his hands on her shoulders as they peered into the smooth glass together.
Standing there, gazing at herself wearing the simple band of gold, it didn’t matter that she was wearing an old shirt of Arthur’s, long since washed nearly to threads, the once-vibrant crimson faded to a dusky pink, or that her braid was beginning to come undone. For the first time, she truly felt like a queen.
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