scorched, posts by tag: !merlin - LiveJournal

[The video shows Merlin in profile, leaning across the a table and feeding one of the many, many olives from his basket to something just off-screen.]

I've heard a lot of talk about being thankful lately. It's nice. I certainly have plenty to be thankful for. The arrival of friends that I thought I might never see again. The chance to make new friends here. Freya's return.

Arthur's armor.

[He smiles. So fond of that armor.]

But the more you're given, the more charitable you should feel towards others, right?

[Merlin winces and draws his hand back, inspecting his thumb for a moment until the tiniest drop of blood wells up. He sucks it into his mouth briefly.]

Sorry. I really just wanted to ask what people think about forgiveness. If it's always possible. If...you have a right to ask for it if you can't give it yourself.

[There's a soft trill of a sound and Merlin's smile returns as he stretches his arm out across the table again.]

Not you. I've already forgiven you for biting me.

[Wait. Allow him to reconsider.]

Though it was a rather grievous injury. I should probably take the morning off.

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[The forge is turned on by blind groping. There might be a couple who recognize Merlin by the top of his head alone. But for the rest, he finally lifts it from the desk. And groans.]

How many of those olives did I eat?

[Because clearly, it's the olives that have left him feeling like he's taken lance poles to his head and stomach. Didn't have anything to do with that clear liquid they were floating in. Because what looks like water must be as harmless as water, right?]

Oh...

[The room, she spins. Merlin wobbles in his chair and places a hand to the back of his head, looking even more confused as he glances at the room around him.]

...Why are there pumpkins everywhere?

[The answer? Because while drunk, the idea of stealing pumpkins from the patch was hilarious. But little does Merlin know, that's not all he brought back.]

Nevermind. I just really hope these stains come out of Arthur's cloak, or I'll be the next to lose my head.

[Merlin sighs and lets his head thump back down again. And peeking out of the shell of a hollowed-out pumpkin behind him, the head of a small white dragon. It stretches its wings and makes a softly grumbling sound, loud and strange enough for Merlin to push the cloak aside and look back under his arm.]

[For a moment, he just stares at it and it stares at him.]

[And then Merlin knocks his forge off the desk in his scramble to turn it off.]

[A forge is on fire. At least that's how it seems at first, the video showing nothing but the red and gold of flames. But look closer and you'll see that they don't quite reach the device, or the person who's using it - an unscorched Scorched.]

[The fire is pushed back until it becomes nothing but wisps of smoke surrounding the dragon's head, alarmingly close, close enough to see the burning in its eyes and the shimmer of scales. The creature's roar and the flapping of its massive wings drown out the sound of everything else. Maybe a blessing. The battle is raging all around.]

They're controlling it with magic.

[As for Merlin, he sounds more like himself this time, only angry. Look, it's no secret that he hates these elves. But stepping on his toes as a dragonlord is just adding insult to injury.]

They have no right! Dragons are not just things to be used!

[He turns the forge away from the dragon and focuses instead on one of the elvish wizards.]

There! The ones that are chanting. Can anyone else see one?

[The wizard looks his way, eyes glowing before it goes flying back into the side of a burning building. Part of the roof crumbles down and buries it, hopefully forever.]

[When he swings back to the dragon, it has circled even closer to him than before. But it pulls back suddenly, roars again and attempts to fly higher into the sky.]

[The sound of chanting grows louder. And the dragon sags underneath it.]

Anyone who's able, aim for them. The dragon should go free!

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Seems I've let a lot of things slip through my fingers lately. Mostly good things. Bad things always their fair share of attention, but the good go begging. I'd like to remedy that.

Like...I've only found three kinds of olives for Nill to try, when Camelot had six. I'm sure the three that I'm missing are the very ones that the ducks would actually eat.

But then Arthur's gone and given them a taste for chicken. They managed to peck at the one I made for dinner last night before I could stop them. [Just the latest in a line of excuses for why there's no meat on Arthur's plate. It's more comfortable than the truth.] Verity, do you think Arthur Watson would like the rest of it? I have something I've been meaning to give you as well.

Anyway, I know I can't give rousing speeches the way that Arthur can, but I do believe things will turn out all right for everyone. Eventually.

I have reason to believe it.

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[Merlin doesn't turn on the video this time, even if he thinks quite a number of people would like to see the elves have their weapons turned against them, arrows and blades stopped mid-flight and sent back to pierce between the eyes, their throats, hearts if they have them. Anyplace lethal.]

They can bleed from more than just their eyes.

[Matter-of-fact.]

For those in or near headquarters, there are two young ducks in Arthur's chambers. Would someone mind looking after them? I'd like to see to it that at least one of my promises is kept.

There's also a cake on the table. It might be a bit stale, but help yourself to it.

[The sound of something approaches, a mount and its rider. Merlin pauses.]

Forbearnan.

[The crackle of flames is unmistakable. So are the sounds of beast and elf as they burn.]

Some of these things have magic, but magic alone isn't enough to save you. Otherwise the Great Purge would never have happened. Women and children wouldn't have died. Good men wouldn't have died.

But if good men can be slaughtered, then there's no reason to show these things mercy. And once all the ones here are done with, I'll find their camp in the Mist and finish the rest.

That's my new promise.

[He takes a breath. Merlin's been numb through it all. But his voice finally breaks with his next words:]

For those of you who haven't yet heard, Arthur is dead.

[There were a lot of things he needed to do now that Merlin was back to himself - people to thank, a couple of apologies of his own to give. He doesn't even want to think about the mess the ducks have made, but he is grateful that he'd left them with the tub full of water and that they managed to tear into their feed.]

[But there was someone he needed to check on first.]

[Which brings us from a scared little boy to a panicked big one.]

She's gone...Freya's gone. Has anyone seen her? If you know anything at all, please tell me!

[He takes a moment to collect himself, or try anyway.]

Freya would not have left that cell of her own free will.

[He knows because he tried to get her to.]

Something must be wrong.

[It seems someone isn't being careful with their Forge. It broadcasts from the ground, nudged by a horse's hoof when the animal stirs.]

[It isn't the only living thing in the barn. Seconds later, a boy sits up and takes a slow look around him. He's a pasty child with blue eyes, and ears that are just a little too big for his head.]

[His first word is the word that most children say when they find themselves lost and alone.]

Mother?

[He gets to his feet, climbs a wooden crate to look out the high window.]

This...this isn't Ealdor.

[He knows, because Merlin knows every little house, every field and inch of forest around his village for miles. He takes a step in retreat, ends up falling on his rear.]

[...That hurt.]

Mother? [He draws in a deep breath.] MOTHER!!

[His eyes flash gold. The hay swirls around him, and the one door that was closed flies open. It's enough to spook the horses, and the boy quickly scoots out of their range when they rear up.]

[He doesn't even try not to cry.]

"How many times do I have to tell you! What is in that thick skull of yours, boy? What!"

[You know it's a rhetorical question. And you're glad, because you wouldn't have an answer if it wasn't. Speaking up would be a bad idea anyway. That's part of the reason you're in trouble, part of the reason you're being lectured again. And the old man is in fine form today. And you feel guilty, miserable for it.]

"Do you know know what would have happened to you if you'd gotten caught?"

[Not exactly. Well, you know what, but not the method. Burned at the stake? Beheading? Hanged? They all seem equally unpleasant.]

"Well?"

[Well! That's right, you'd forgotten about executiong by drowning. It's not just for children, after all.]

[The physician is looking at you expectantly now. You draw in a breath to speak and defend yourself, not that he'll understand. No one understands, and you wonder if anyone ever will.]

[That's when the first snort comes from beneath your bed.]

[You press your lips back together again, glance off in some random direction to avoid your guardian's eyes as he watches the large hog drag itself from underneath your bed.]

"What is that?!"

[Uhm. A wild boar?, you offer.]

"I can see that, Merlin! What the devil is it doing in your room!"

[You glance over at it, watch as it noses at one of the dozens of bundles of herbs hanging about.]

[I believe it's rooting for truffles, you say. And the boar snorts loudly again. You're laughing now. Gaius stares at you like you've gone mad before turning and walking out, pulling the door closed behind him.]

[Merlin's still laughing when the feed is cut off.]