(no subject)
Mar. 23rd, 2009 08:28 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nnyBecause I am apparently easy, tonight, here's a little more [a little after this] for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
unamaga and torakowalski.
Merlin was his name, apparently. It wasn't like Arthur went to any particular lengths to find out; the family was small enough that any new face was an event, and everyone was frankly bloody relieved that it'd be an end to Gaius' faintly martyred air at quite how many props he was supposed to manage. He kept an eye out - to make sure the new kid wasn't messing anything up, getting into anything he shouldn't - but he didn't catch sight of him again until a particular smirk from the corner of his eye made his knuckles turn white against the edges of the cabinet.
Even as he spun the cabinet again, though, he could see the self-satisfied smirk start to falter, could see a faintly worried look emerging. And well it bloody should, too, because there had never been any sort of a problem with the hinges of the vanishing cabinet before now, before the appearance of the idiot with the ears. And right now, as the audience started making the first faintest questioning noises, as Arthur's stage costume started to increase in weight roughly a thousand-fold and the lights made him sweat like a leaking tap, something had definitely gone wrong. He closed one eye and surreptitiously peeked into the tiny peep hole again, saw the panic on Morgana's face at the apparent reluctance of the damned mirror to do its job.
"Come on, sunshine," someone yelled in the audience, still good-natured for the most part but with an edge that made Arthur flinch. "I could've vanished to the bleedin' pub and back by now!"
Arthur cast one last poisonous glare at the - now glaringly empty - wings, and cleared his throat.
"Seems like the workings of the mysterious ether are more mysterious than ever today, ladies and gents," he managed, halting the cabinet's rotation with a little less than his usual flair. The door to the cabinet creaked open, almost smacking him in the face with unusual force, and he swept a low bow for the sheer hell of it; might as well meet the end of his short-lived career with aplomb. There was a gasp from the audience, quickly stifled, and then - to Arthur's frank astonishment - a smattering of applause that quickly swelled to a torrent, a flood.
Arthur straightened up, blinking into the bright lights with what was an undoubtedly stupid expression on his face, silently blessing Morgana's apparent ability to negotiate impossible difficulties with her usual grace.
That was when Merlin - shabby undersized clothes and all - emerged around the door of the cabinet and offered a faintly bashful smile.
"Hi," he said, or at least attempted it; the wave of applause was too loud to tell.
***
The backstage party that night was a little louder, a little more exuberant, revelling in the relief of the Boss's son's unnatural escape from disaster. Uther himself was lounging in the oversized and frankly ridiculous velvet-padded chair, the one that'd been rescued from the set of the Scottish play they oughtn't to name. He had a drink in one hand, but the sharpness of the gaze he rested on Arthur spoke of how little he'd had of it, and Arthur did his best to keep to the shadows around the edges as far as possible - which, sadly, wasn't all that far. He was, somehow, the hero of the hour, and everyone was choosing to believe that his close mouth on the subject was down to professional concerns, as opposed to having no bloody clue what in god's name had happened.
He was just about to make his escape through one of the uncountable doors when a sudden silence fell, prompted by the gentle tap of a coin against the edge of Uther's glass. He had straightened in his chair, holding court without changing expression.
"Oh bugger," someone said softly, next to Arthur's elbow; a quick flicked sideways glance revealed it to be the uncanny idiot himself, Merlin looking distinctly uncomfortable and as though he'd rather be anywhere but there.
Arthur felt a quick flash of empathy.
"...and overall surprising show," Uther was pronouncing, prompting a short ragged cheer that he quenched with a raised hand. "And my son was the most surprising act in it, it would appear." Another of those unnervingly weighted glances, which rested on him for a moment before moving to his right. "With the help of our newest recruit, here."
Uther raised his glass, looking directly at Merlin, who let out a noise that was suspiciously close to a whimper. He looked, when Arthur turned his head, as though he was about to give in and do a runner, so Arthur grabbed his elbow in merciless fingers and smiled around gritted teeth.
"Don't even think about it," he hissed.
"You prevented my son from dying out there," Uther continued, seemingly oblivious to the byplay, "through means that no one has yet seen fit to tell me. Nevertheless, we clearly ought to better utilise your talents - "
"Eh?" Merlin said faintly.
" - so I will be speaking to Gaius about your working with Arthur on a more permanent basis."
"What?" Arthur demanded, Merlin echoing his disgusted protest.
unamaga and torakowalski. Merlin was his name, apparently. It wasn't like Arthur went to any particular lengths to find out; the family was small enough that any new face was an event, and everyone was frankly bloody relieved that it'd be an end to Gaius' faintly martyred air at quite how many props he was supposed to manage. He kept an eye out - to make sure the new kid wasn't messing anything up, getting into anything he shouldn't - but he didn't catch sight of him again until a particular smirk from the corner of his eye made his knuckles turn white against the edges of the cabinet.
Even as he spun the cabinet again, though, he could see the self-satisfied smirk start to falter, could see a faintly worried look emerging. And well it bloody should, too, because there had never been any sort of a problem with the hinges of the vanishing cabinet before now, before the appearance of the idiot with the ears. And right now, as the audience started making the first faintest questioning noises, as Arthur's stage costume started to increase in weight roughly a thousand-fold and the lights made him sweat like a leaking tap, something had definitely gone wrong. He closed one eye and surreptitiously peeked into the tiny peep hole again, saw the panic on Morgana's face at the apparent reluctance of the damned mirror to do its job.
"Come on, sunshine," someone yelled in the audience, still good-natured for the most part but with an edge that made Arthur flinch. "I could've vanished to the bleedin' pub and back by now!"
Arthur cast one last poisonous glare at the - now glaringly empty - wings, and cleared his throat.
"Seems like the workings of the mysterious ether are more mysterious than ever today, ladies and gents," he managed, halting the cabinet's rotation with a little less than his usual flair. The door to the cabinet creaked open, almost smacking him in the face with unusual force, and he swept a low bow for the sheer hell of it; might as well meet the end of his short-lived career with aplomb. There was a gasp from the audience, quickly stifled, and then - to Arthur's frank astonishment - a smattering of applause that quickly swelled to a torrent, a flood.
Arthur straightened up, blinking into the bright lights with what was an undoubtedly stupid expression on his face, silently blessing Morgana's apparent ability to negotiate impossible difficulties with her usual grace.
That was when Merlin - shabby undersized clothes and all - emerged around the door of the cabinet and offered a faintly bashful smile.
"Hi," he said, or at least attempted it; the wave of applause was too loud to tell.
The backstage party that night was a little louder, a little more exuberant, revelling in the relief of the Boss's son's unnatural escape from disaster. Uther himself was lounging in the oversized and frankly ridiculous velvet-padded chair, the one that'd been rescued from the set of the Scottish play they oughtn't to name. He had a drink in one hand, but the sharpness of the gaze he rested on Arthur spoke of how little he'd had of it, and Arthur did his best to keep to the shadows around the edges as far as possible - which, sadly, wasn't all that far. He was, somehow, the hero of the hour, and everyone was choosing to believe that his close mouth on the subject was down to professional concerns, as opposed to having no bloody clue what in god's name had happened.
He was just about to make his escape through one of the uncountable doors when a sudden silence fell, prompted by the gentle tap of a coin against the edge of Uther's glass. He had straightened in his chair, holding court without changing expression.
"Oh bugger," someone said softly, next to Arthur's elbow; a quick flicked sideways glance revealed it to be the uncanny idiot himself, Merlin looking distinctly uncomfortable and as though he'd rather be anywhere but there.
Arthur felt a quick flash of empathy.
"...and overall surprising show," Uther was pronouncing, prompting a short ragged cheer that he quenched with a raised hand. "And my son was the most surprising act in it, it would appear." Another of those unnervingly weighted glances, which rested on him for a moment before moving to his right. "With the help of our newest recruit, here."
Uther raised his glass, looking directly at Merlin, who let out a noise that was suspiciously close to a whimper. He looked, when Arthur turned his head, as though he was about to give in and do a runner, so Arthur grabbed his elbow in merciless fingers and smiled around gritted teeth.
"Don't even think about it," he hissed.
"You prevented my son from dying out there," Uther continued, seemingly oblivious to the byplay, "through means that no one has yet seen fit to tell me. Nevertheless, we clearly ought to better utilise your talents - "
"Eh?" Merlin said faintly.
" - so I will be speaking to Gaius about your working with Arthur on a more permanent basis."
"What?" Arthur demanded, Merlin echoing his disgusted protest.
