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ciirceeDay Six is early because I have to remove the taint of feeling like I fail for Day Five. (I want to write GOOD Maou fic.) Orz I'd have tossed this into day five except that I occasionally just really hate mixing my tags.
The brilliance of this idea totally comes from![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lady_gemma, who was good enough to listen to me cry. Somebody please tell her to slap me a little more often.
I am so sorry.
A Destined Meeting
It almost would have been extraordinarily nice of Arthur to have given Merlin the day to attend to his holiday shopping if it hadn't come with the order to 'buy me something nice'.
"How is it a gift if he tells me to get it," Merlin muttered. "Gifts are freely given, not ordered. Shared between friends and not between a decent fellow and a prat."
"Prat," a creaky little voice echoed.
Merlin stopped in the middle of the bustling little bazaar. There was nobody close enough to him to have heard him. At least, nobody that was paying him any mind as far as he could tell. "Hello?" he called.
"Prat," said the voice again.
A flurry of color made Merlin focus on a woven cage that was hanging from the corner of a peddler's cart. The cart was full of cages but only one cage held an occupant: a small bird with brilliant feathers in shades of green and teal. "Hullo there," Merlin said to the bird.
The bird cocked its head, black eyes gleaming in the winter sunlight. "Prat," the bird told him.
"I am not," Merlin told the bird. "I'm Merlin and I'm perfectly nice. If you want to meet a real prat, that's Arthur."
Inside the cage, the bird fluttered its wings and hopped from side to side. "Prat?" it offered.
"No, that's Arthur," Merlin told it.
"You'd do better to argue that with your Arthur," said a new voice suddenly. Merlin looked away from the bird to see a man hitching a horse to the front of the cart. "That little one won't change her tune."
"Neither will Arthur," Merlin said. He smiled at the cart's owner. He could feel destiny in the air. "How much?" he asked.
The cart owner looked surprised. "For Gemma?" he asked. "She only says the one word."
"It's the perfect word," Merlin assured him.
"In two years, it's the only word she's ever learned."
"No, really, it's perfect."
As it turned out, the peddler cut him a good bargain on the provision that Merlin never try to return her.
"What in the world?" Gaius demanded when Merlin got home.
"Gaius, meet Gemma. Gemma, tell Gaius what Arthur is, if you please," Merlin said, lifting the cage and holding it out toward his mentor.
Gemma bowed. "Prat," she said.
"Merlin," said Gaius.
"She's a monk parrot. And Arthur's present," Merlin said proudly.
Gaius left the room muttering to himself.
Merlin lifted the cage up so that he was eye to eye with the small parrot. "This is a good sign," he told the little bird.
Christmas morning dawned bright and snowy and Merlin found himself on the point of singing as he swept into Arthur's rooms. "Good morning, Arthur," he called out. "Happy Christmas!"
Arthur's bed curtains opened and Arthur's bed-tousled head emerged from the gap. "Lord," he said. "What have you done now, Merlin?"
Merlin pressed a hand to his heart. "I've done nothing except find you the perfect gift. As ordered." He produced the cloth-covered cage from behind his back with a small flourish.
Arthur looked at him.
Merlin held the cage out to him.
With a look of resignation, Arthur pulled the cover away. "Prat," Gemma called him.
"It's a parrot," Arthur said.
"Very good, Arthur," said Merlin.
"Prat," Gemma added.
"Let me guess: That's the only word it knows."
Merlin smiled beatifically. "It's the only one she needs."
"Riiiiiiight," Arthur said. He sat up, brushing his hair back from his face.
"This is destiny," Merlin told him, holding out the cage. "Really. Happy Christmas. I'll go get your breakfast," he announced once Arthur had the cage in hand.
"Merlin," Arthur stopped him before he'd done more than turn around. "Don't you want to get your gift?"
"You got me a present?" Merlin asked in confusion, turning around again.
Arthur smiled at him, one of those full-blown grins that Merlin only ever rarely saw. "As a matter of fact, I did."
Merlin watched Arthur twist, leaning over to the far side of his bed. He came up with a very familiar looking, cloth-covered object. It was the same size and shape as the one Merlin had carried in with him, with the exception of the cloth being blue instead of red.
"Idiot," said the present.
The brilliance of this idea totally comes from
lady_gemma, who was good enough to listen to me cry. Somebody please tell her to slap me a little more often.I am so sorry.
A Destined Meeting
It almost would have been extraordinarily nice of Arthur to have given Merlin the day to attend to his holiday shopping if it hadn't come with the order to 'buy me something nice'.
"How is it a gift if he tells me to get it," Merlin muttered. "Gifts are freely given, not ordered. Shared between friends and not between a decent fellow and a prat."
"Prat," a creaky little voice echoed.
Merlin stopped in the middle of the bustling little bazaar. There was nobody close enough to him to have heard him. At least, nobody that was paying him any mind as far as he could tell. "Hello?" he called.
"Prat," said the voice again.
A flurry of color made Merlin focus on a woven cage that was hanging from the corner of a peddler's cart. The cart was full of cages but only one cage held an occupant: a small bird with brilliant feathers in shades of green and teal. "Hullo there," Merlin said to the bird.
The bird cocked its head, black eyes gleaming in the winter sunlight. "Prat," the bird told him.
"I am not," Merlin told the bird. "I'm Merlin and I'm perfectly nice. If you want to meet a real prat, that's Arthur."
Inside the cage, the bird fluttered its wings and hopped from side to side. "Prat?" it offered.
"No, that's Arthur," Merlin told it.
"You'd do better to argue that with your Arthur," said a new voice suddenly. Merlin looked away from the bird to see a man hitching a horse to the front of the cart. "That little one won't change her tune."
"Neither will Arthur," Merlin said. He smiled at the cart's owner. He could feel destiny in the air. "How much?" he asked.
The cart owner looked surprised. "For Gemma?" he asked. "She only says the one word."
"It's the perfect word," Merlin assured him.
"In two years, it's the only word she's ever learned."
"No, really, it's perfect."
As it turned out, the peddler cut him a good bargain on the provision that Merlin never try to return her.
"What in the world?" Gaius demanded when Merlin got home.
"Gaius, meet Gemma. Gemma, tell Gaius what Arthur is, if you please," Merlin said, lifting the cage and holding it out toward his mentor.
Gemma bowed. "Prat," she said.
"Merlin," said Gaius.
"She's a monk parrot. And Arthur's present," Merlin said proudly.
Gaius left the room muttering to himself.
Merlin lifted the cage up so that he was eye to eye with the small parrot. "This is a good sign," he told the little bird.
Christmas morning dawned bright and snowy and Merlin found himself on the point of singing as he swept into Arthur's rooms. "Good morning, Arthur," he called out. "Happy Christmas!"
Arthur's bed curtains opened and Arthur's bed-tousled head emerged from the gap. "Lord," he said. "What have you done now, Merlin?"
Merlin pressed a hand to his heart. "I've done nothing except find you the perfect gift. As ordered." He produced the cloth-covered cage from behind his back with a small flourish.
Arthur looked at him.
Merlin held the cage out to him.
With a look of resignation, Arthur pulled the cover away. "Prat," Gemma called him.
"It's a parrot," Arthur said.
"Very good, Arthur," said Merlin.
"Prat," Gemma added.
"Let me guess: That's the only word it knows."
Merlin smiled beatifically. "It's the only one she needs."
"Riiiiiiight," Arthur said. He sat up, brushing his hair back from his face.
"This is destiny," Merlin told him, holding out the cage. "Really. Happy Christmas. I'll go get your breakfast," he announced once Arthur had the cage in hand.
"Merlin," Arthur stopped him before he'd done more than turn around. "Don't you want to get your gift?"
"You got me a present?" Merlin asked in confusion, turning around again.
Arthur smiled at him, one of those full-blown grins that Merlin only ever rarely saw. "As a matter of fact, I did."
Merlin watched Arthur twist, leaning over to the far side of his bed. He came up with a very familiar looking, cloth-covered object. It was the same size and shape as the one Merlin had carried in with him, with the exception of the cloth being blue instead of red.
"Idiot," said the present.
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Date: 2009-09-24 08:18 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2012-01-14 03:41 am (UTC)