"An Abundance of Merlins"
Nov. 24th, 2009 09:31 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
amelia_petkovaTitle: An Abundance of Merlins
Fandom: The Dark is Rising Sequence / Merlin (UK TV series)
Genre: Humor
Summary: Merlin meets himself. It doesn’t go well.
Disclaimer: The show Merlin belongs to the BBC and Merriman Lyon is from The Dark is Rising Sequence, property of Susan Cooper.
Author's Notes: If you happen to be familiar with one of the fandoms involved but not the other: Merlin is a TV series retelling of Arthurian legends. The Dark is Rising has a character named Merriman Lyon, who is also Merlin.
I had a lot of fun writing this.
"An Abundance of Merlins"
by Amelia Petkova
“Hi, I’m Merlin.”
Merriman Lyon eyed the scrawny boy with tidy hair and a non-beaky nose. “I don’t think so.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m Merlin.”
The boy adopted a conciliatory tone. “It’s not a common name but I guess it could belong to more than one person.”
Merriman’s hair bristled. “Young man, I am the Merlin, Old One and confidant of King Arthur.”
“Yeah, me too. Except that he’s Prince Arthur and I’m his servant. And he doesn’t know I’m a sorcerer. At least, I think he doesn’t. Arthur’s not the brightest guy around. What’s an Old One?”
“What’s an…” Merriman broke off and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Lady, grant me patience,” he muttered. He looked for inspiration around the hallway where he had materialized in front of his boy. It seemed to be part of a castle that was far too shiny and technologically advanced. He had the sudden, overwhelmingly dreadful hunch that it was supposed to be Camelot.
A blond boy wearing a sword strode into view. “Merlin, when I told you to clean the rust off of my armor, I meant that you should do it now.” He looked Merriman up and down. “Who’s this?”
“Just a visitor,” Merlin babbled. “He just got to Camelot. He was asking me for directions to…to the library!”
“That’s right here, Merlin.” Indeed, shelves of books and scrolls were visible through the nearby doorway.
“I brought him here,” Merlin concluded lamely.
“What’s your name, stranger?” the blond boy asked in what was probably meant to be an intimidating manner.
“Merriman Lyon. I’m a scholar,” Merriman answered. So this must be Prince Arthur, someday to be King of Britain. Looking over the inexperienced and arrogant youth, Merriman inwardly shuddered. He would choose his own Arthur over this one any day.
Arthur eyed him a minute before bluntly asking, “Are you a sorcerer?”
Standing behind Arthur, Merlin began waving his arms violently and mouthing, “No!”
Merriman hid a smile. It seemed that the prince wasn’t a complete dunce. “Indeed, I am.”
Merlin turned gray. Arthur drew his sword. “Sir, by the laws of Camelot, you are charged with high treason. You are under arrest and will come to the throne room to be sentenced.”
Merriman laughed; he couldn’t help it. “I am a sorcerer like none you will ever see. I have lived for millennia and fought against the Dark alongside the true Arthur. Do you really think that toy of a sword can intimidate me?” He held his hand out, fingers spread. Time froze.
Arthur and Merlin stared, unseeing. “Forget,” Merriman told them. He turned and strode away out of their time.
Merlin blinked. “What did you say?”
Arthur looked in confusion at his upheld sword and put it away. “I told you to clean my armor. Honestly, Merlin, could there be a servant worse than you?”
“I’m sure we’ll find out someday,” Merlin said and scurried off down the hallway, out of Arthur’s reach.
Just another day in Camelot.
Fandom: The Dark is Rising Sequence / Merlin (UK TV series)
Genre: Humor
Summary: Merlin meets himself. It doesn’t go well.
Disclaimer: The show Merlin belongs to the BBC and Merriman Lyon is from The Dark is Rising Sequence, property of Susan Cooper.
Author's Notes: If you happen to be familiar with one of the fandoms involved but not the other: Merlin is a TV series retelling of Arthurian legends. The Dark is Rising has a character named Merriman Lyon, who is also Merlin.
I had a lot of fun writing this.
by Amelia Petkova
“Hi, I’m Merlin.”
Merriman Lyon eyed the scrawny boy with tidy hair and a non-beaky nose. “I don’t think so.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m Merlin.”
The boy adopted a conciliatory tone. “It’s not a common name but I guess it could belong to more than one person.”
Merriman’s hair bristled. “Young man, I am the Merlin, Old One and confidant of King Arthur.”
“Yeah, me too. Except that he’s Prince Arthur and I’m his servant. And he doesn’t know I’m a sorcerer. At least, I think he doesn’t. Arthur’s not the brightest guy around. What’s an Old One?”
“What’s an…” Merriman broke off and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Lady, grant me patience,” he muttered. He looked for inspiration around the hallway where he had materialized in front of his boy. It seemed to be part of a castle that was far too shiny and technologically advanced. He had the sudden, overwhelmingly dreadful hunch that it was supposed to be Camelot.
A blond boy wearing a sword strode into view. “Merlin, when I told you to clean the rust off of my armor, I meant that you should do it now.” He looked Merriman up and down. “Who’s this?”
“Just a visitor,” Merlin babbled. “He just got to Camelot. He was asking me for directions to…to the library!”
“That’s right here, Merlin.” Indeed, shelves of books and scrolls were visible through the nearby doorway.
“I brought him here,” Merlin concluded lamely.
“What’s your name, stranger?” the blond boy asked in what was probably meant to be an intimidating manner.
“Merriman Lyon. I’m a scholar,” Merriman answered. So this must be Prince Arthur, someday to be King of Britain. Looking over the inexperienced and arrogant youth, Merriman inwardly shuddered. He would choose his own Arthur over this one any day.
Arthur eyed him a minute before bluntly asking, “Are you a sorcerer?”
Standing behind Arthur, Merlin began waving his arms violently and mouthing, “No!”
Merriman hid a smile. It seemed that the prince wasn’t a complete dunce. “Indeed, I am.”
Merlin turned gray. Arthur drew his sword. “Sir, by the laws of Camelot, you are charged with high treason. You are under arrest and will come to the throne room to be sentenced.”
Merriman laughed; he couldn’t help it. “I am a sorcerer like none you will ever see. I have lived for millennia and fought against the Dark alongside the true Arthur. Do you really think that toy of a sword can intimidate me?” He held his hand out, fingers spread. Time froze.
Arthur and Merlin stared, unseeing. “Forget,” Merriman told them. He turned and strode away out of their time.
Merlin blinked. “What did you say?”
Arthur looked in confusion at his upheld sword and put it away. “I told you to clean my armor. Honestly, Merlin, could there be a servant worse than you?”
“I’m sure we’ll find out someday,” Merlin said and scurried off down the hallway, out of Arthur’s reach.
Just another day in Camelot.
