ext_42391 (
archaeologist-d.livejournal.com) wrote in
camelot_drabble2016-07-19 05:26 pm
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
Entry tags:
Uncertain
Author:
archaeologist_d
Title: Uncertain
Rating: PG-13
Character/s: Merlin, Arthur
Summary: Arthur's memories made him who he was. But he could be more than just a bully.
Warnings: none
Word Count: 355
Prompt: 220 Insecurity
Author's Notes: for some reason, insecurity led me here. Oh, well.
Disclaimer: I do not own the BBC version of Merlin; It and Shine do. I am very respectfully borrowing them with no intent to profit. No money has changed hands. No copyright infringement is intended.
-------------------------------------
I remember the first time my father hit me. I couldn't have been more than 4 or so, a child, and everything about that day seemed crooked afterwards, a lens covered in blood and pain.
I don't remember what I'd done, but there were stitches, and for a time, Gaius's gentle voice. I probably blocked out whatever else happened next, but I did spend the night in darkness and straw, a cell I think, because I remember the smell. It's funny sometimes how odours can bring back the pain or a flash of light or even the cold feel of iron under my palm, even now.
It wasn't the last time he hit me, either.
I learned to temper my reactions, learned to be stoic, and then later to take out my frustrations on others. A prince answered only to the king, and I think my father liked that I'd treat those lesser beings with contempt.
A blow to my ego became pain to someone else - a thrown chalice, a beating with fists or steel, even a night in those hated cells for those who got in my way. They couldn't fight back, either, and for a time, wrong though it was, it was almost enough.
Until Merlin.
Merlin didn't know – or didn't care. He'd talk back, stand his ground, duck whenever I threw something at him. I should have been furious, and for a time, I was. But there was something about him. His conviction, his courage, his refusal to back down, made me think again about what I was doing and why.
I realized that my father's punishments had made me insecure somehow - of his love, of my place, of everything. The only thing I could count on was pain and surely that wasn't enough to build a kingdom on.
But Merlin was certain. In every day, in every way, I could see the belief in his eyes, shining blue and steady and true, that I could better than a royal bully punishing those who could not defend themselves. That I could be a king worth following.
I'm going to try.
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Title: Uncertain
Rating: PG-13
Character/s: Merlin, Arthur
Summary: Arthur's memories made him who he was. But he could be more than just a bully.
Warnings: none
Word Count: 355
Prompt: 220 Insecurity
Author's Notes: for some reason, insecurity led me here. Oh, well.
Disclaimer: I do not own the BBC version of Merlin; It and Shine do. I am very respectfully borrowing them with no intent to profit. No money has changed hands. No copyright infringement is intended.
-------------------------------------
I remember the first time my father hit me. I couldn't have been more than 4 or so, a child, and everything about that day seemed crooked afterwards, a lens covered in blood and pain.
I don't remember what I'd done, but there were stitches, and for a time, Gaius's gentle voice. I probably blocked out whatever else happened next, but I did spend the night in darkness and straw, a cell I think, because I remember the smell. It's funny sometimes how odours can bring back the pain or a flash of light or even the cold feel of iron under my palm, even now.
It wasn't the last time he hit me, either.
I learned to temper my reactions, learned to be stoic, and then later to take out my frustrations on others. A prince answered only to the king, and I think my father liked that I'd treat those lesser beings with contempt.
A blow to my ego became pain to someone else - a thrown chalice, a beating with fists or steel, even a night in those hated cells for those who got in my way. They couldn't fight back, either, and for a time, wrong though it was, it was almost enough.
Until Merlin.
Merlin didn't know – or didn't care. He'd talk back, stand his ground, duck whenever I threw something at him. I should have been furious, and for a time, I was. But there was something about him. His conviction, his courage, his refusal to back down, made me think again about what I was doing and why.
I realized that my father's punishments had made me insecure somehow - of his love, of my place, of everything. The only thing I could count on was pain and surely that wasn't enough to build a kingdom on.
But Merlin was certain. In every day, in every way, I could see the belief in his eyes, shining blue and steady and true, that I could better than a royal bully punishing those who could not defend themselves. That I could be a king worth following.
I'm going to try.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
Glad you liked it.
no subject
no subject