Life's too short
Jun. 26th, 2012 10:26 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
Author:
kleinefee92
Title: Life’s too short
Rating: G
Pairing: Merlin, Arthur
Characters:Merlin, Arthur
Summary: Arthur is stressed, but never fear: Merlin is here.
Word Count: 924
Prompt:Tease
Author's Notes: I wrote this while listening to Young the Giant’s Cough Syrup. I always listen to music that fits the mood of whatever I’m writing at the time, hence the title. I had originally been planning on writing another oneshot for my Unstoppable Force 'verse, but the inspiration wasn't flowing, so I wrote this instead. I think I may have gotten a bit heavy-handed with the metaphors and similes in this one, but we'll see.
Life’s too short
Tension along the borders, dying crops, no hint of an heir, no idea where his sister might be hiding. There’s no lack for bad news, and a horrendous dearth of good. It’s been a long day, and though he normally craves the feeling of a sword in his hand, the thought of traipsing off to the training grounds right about now makes him cringe. He glances around at the others in the council room and breathes a silent sigh of relief. No one has noticed their king’s moment of discomfort. Except -
He closes his eyes in resignation. Of course Merlin would see. Of course he would know.
Although he and Merlin spend less time in each others’ presence now that he and Guinevere are married, he still understands Arthur better than anyone else. Briefly, he considers beating a hasty retreat upon the conclusion of the meeting, but Arthur has never been one to shy away from confrontation, and he refuses to start now. His resolution keeps him in his seat long after the nobles pay their respects and depart, a pair of too-blue eyes observing him throughout the proceedings.
A good ten minutes pass before Arthur shifts uncomfortably and asks, “So is this the part where you say something ridiculous to take my mind off of things?”
“Normally? Yes.” Well, at least he’s honest. Arthur supposes there simply isn’t a point in trying to lie to each other after being friends for so long. “But you’ve been even more humorless than usual, so I don’t think that’s going to work.”
In spite of himself, Arthur’s lips turn up at his friend’s frank assessment. “All right, then. What do you, in your infinite wisdom, propose?”
Walking deliberately over to stand beside his king’s chair, Merlin stares down at him with the barest hint of levity in his eyes and holds his arms open.
Jerking back involuntarily, Arthur watches his friend’s arms as though they are a pair of serpents waiting to crush his ribs. “You cannot be serious. Do you remember the last time you tried to - to hug me?”
Merlin continues to stand there, patient and increasingly more amused, and though Arthur tries to fight it, to hold on to the clouds and the ill humor that have been hanging over him today - and why can’t Merlin ever simply let him brood? - in the face of such well-intended goading, he is virtually powerless. He might feel more upset about this blatant manipulation, might worry more about his inability to control his responses to Merlin, but for the knowledge that his friend would do anything, be anything he needed, for Arthur’s sake. So, rather than let his hackles rise and his suspicions flourish, he reaches up and snags his friend by the neck, dragging him down to his level and running a fist roughly - but not too roughly, because Merlin may be stronger than he looks, but the man bruises like a peach - over the crown of his head, blithely ignoring the yelps and spluttered protests his actions evoke.
At last, he sets his captive free, and watches as he shakes himself - almost as a bird would in order to settle its ruffled feathers. Glaring, Merlin raises his eyebrows and tries to hide his smile - he fails, as Arthur knew he would - and asks, “Feeling better?”
He muses. “I don’t know, Merlin. I may have to do that a few more times - so that it sticks, you know. Or you could bring your old training gear with us when we go to the practice fields, and you could let me knock you on your arse - what?” Merlin has this exasperated look on his face, but underneath it, Arthur can tell he’s enormously pleased with himself.
“Six years later, and you’re still the prat I met in the market.”
“And you still can’t talk to me like that.” Except that he can, and he does, with pride and regularity. Arthur will feed himself to a pack of wildoren before admitting that he loves it.
“Oh really? What are you going to do, Sire?” He glances around at the otherwise empty hall and then looks back at Arthur. “There’s no guards to drag me off to the dungeons, there’s just you and me.”
Arthur says nothing, merely rises from his chair with a vaguely predatory gleam in his eyes, and watches for the moment - yes, there! - that Merlin guesses his intentions and turns tail, laughing as he flees and glancing over his shoulder every once in awhile to see that his friend is still giving chase. He needn’t bother - it is an unspoken truth that where one of them goes, the other will follow. Up ahead, Merlin erupts out of the castle doors and puts on a burst of speed. Arthur lowers his head, pushes his shoulders forward, and throws himself into the challenge.
Feet pounding against flagstones and sun beating down upon sweaty brow, Arthur lets go of the stress that has been plaguing him and simply revels in the joy of being alive.
As if sensing his capitulation, Merlin glances back again and catches his eyes, success written in every line and dimple on his face.
Arthur thanks him by tackling him to the reasonably pliant ground of the practice field. After all -
He was asking for it.
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Title: Life’s too short
Rating: G
Pairing: Merlin, Arthur
Characters:Merlin, Arthur
Summary: Arthur is stressed, but never fear: Merlin is here.
Word Count: 924
Prompt:Tease
Author's Notes: I wrote this while listening to Young the Giant’s Cough Syrup. I always listen to music that fits the mood of whatever I’m writing at the time, hence the title. I had originally been planning on writing another oneshot for my Unstoppable Force 'verse, but the inspiration wasn't flowing, so I wrote this instead. I think I may have gotten a bit heavy-handed with the metaphors and similes in this one, but we'll see.
Life’s too short
Tension along the borders, dying crops, no hint of an heir, no idea where his sister might be hiding. There’s no lack for bad news, and a horrendous dearth of good. It’s been a long day, and though he normally craves the feeling of a sword in his hand, the thought of traipsing off to the training grounds right about now makes him cringe. He glances around at the others in the council room and breathes a silent sigh of relief. No one has noticed their king’s moment of discomfort. Except -
He closes his eyes in resignation. Of course Merlin would see. Of course he would know.
Although he and Merlin spend less time in each others’ presence now that he and Guinevere are married, he still understands Arthur better than anyone else. Briefly, he considers beating a hasty retreat upon the conclusion of the meeting, but Arthur has never been one to shy away from confrontation, and he refuses to start now. His resolution keeps him in his seat long after the nobles pay their respects and depart, a pair of too-blue eyes observing him throughout the proceedings.
A good ten minutes pass before Arthur shifts uncomfortably and asks, “So is this the part where you say something ridiculous to take my mind off of things?”
“Normally? Yes.” Well, at least he’s honest. Arthur supposes there simply isn’t a point in trying to lie to each other after being friends for so long. “But you’ve been even more humorless than usual, so I don’t think that’s going to work.”
In spite of himself, Arthur’s lips turn up at his friend’s frank assessment. “All right, then. What do you, in your infinite wisdom, propose?”
Walking deliberately over to stand beside his king’s chair, Merlin stares down at him with the barest hint of levity in his eyes and holds his arms open.
Jerking back involuntarily, Arthur watches his friend’s arms as though they are a pair of serpents waiting to crush his ribs. “You cannot be serious. Do you remember the last time you tried to - to hug me?”
Merlin continues to stand there, patient and increasingly more amused, and though Arthur tries to fight it, to hold on to the clouds and the ill humor that have been hanging over him today - and why can’t Merlin ever simply let him brood? - in the face of such well-intended goading, he is virtually powerless. He might feel more upset about this blatant manipulation, might worry more about his inability to control his responses to Merlin, but for the knowledge that his friend would do anything, be anything he needed, for Arthur’s sake. So, rather than let his hackles rise and his suspicions flourish, he reaches up and snags his friend by the neck, dragging him down to his level and running a fist roughly - but not too roughly, because Merlin may be stronger than he looks, but the man bruises like a peach - over the crown of his head, blithely ignoring the yelps and spluttered protests his actions evoke.
At last, he sets his captive free, and watches as he shakes himself - almost as a bird would in order to settle its ruffled feathers. Glaring, Merlin raises his eyebrows and tries to hide his smile - he fails, as Arthur knew he would - and asks, “Feeling better?”
He muses. “I don’t know, Merlin. I may have to do that a few more times - so that it sticks, you know. Or you could bring your old training gear with us when we go to the practice fields, and you could let me knock you on your arse - what?” Merlin has this exasperated look on his face, but underneath it, Arthur can tell he’s enormously pleased with himself.
“Six years later, and you’re still the prat I met in the market.”
“And you still can’t talk to me like that.” Except that he can, and he does, with pride and regularity. Arthur will feed himself to a pack of wildoren before admitting that he loves it.
“Oh really? What are you going to do, Sire?” He glances around at the otherwise empty hall and then looks back at Arthur. “There’s no guards to drag me off to the dungeons, there’s just you and me.”
Arthur says nothing, merely rises from his chair with a vaguely predatory gleam in his eyes, and watches for the moment - yes, there! - that Merlin guesses his intentions and turns tail, laughing as he flees and glancing over his shoulder every once in awhile to see that his friend is still giving chase. He needn’t bother - it is an unspoken truth that where one of them goes, the other will follow. Up ahead, Merlin erupts out of the castle doors and puts on a burst of speed. Arthur lowers his head, pushes his shoulders forward, and throws himself into the challenge.
Feet pounding against flagstones and sun beating down upon sweaty brow, Arthur lets go of the stress that has been plaguing him and simply revels in the joy of being alive.
As if sensing his capitulation, Merlin glances back again and catches his eyes, success written in every line and dimple on his face.
Arthur thanks him by tackling him to the reasonably pliant ground of the practice field. After all -
He was asking for it.
no subject
Date: 2012-06-26 06:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-27 03:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-26 06:06 pm (UTC)“Six years later, and you’re still the prat I met in the market.” This really showed their friendship. Well done.♥ *hugs* :)
no subject
Date: 2012-06-27 03:26 pm (UTC)Thank you - I'm glad you liked this exploration of their friendship.
no subject
Date: 2012-06-28 05:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-26 08:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-27 03:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-26 09:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-27 03:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-27 12:55 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-27 03:30 pm (UTC)I think that their back-and-forth interactions will be even more important now that Arthur and Guinevere are married, because they won't be able to spend as much time with each other - they'll have to make it count when they can, you know?
no subject
Date: 2012-06-27 02:28 am (UTC)First of all, I think you've captured Arthur here really well.
Second of all, this little nugget is the heart of their relationship.
Love this piece.
no subject
Date: 2012-06-27 03:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-27 07:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-27 06:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-28 07:03 pm (UTC)