Music of the Spheres - part 1
Author: 
archaeologist_d
Title: Music of the Spheres part 1
Rating: G
Pairing/s: none
Character/s: Merlin, Arthur
Summary: Merlin could hear the music in the wind and the earth and the sky and sometimes he would even play to it. Of course, the clotpole finds out.
Warnings: none
Word Count: 606
Camelot_drabble prompt 548: Performance
Author’s notes: AU because we never did get Merlin and Arthur singing together. Broken into 2 parts since it's so long.
Disclaimer: I do not own the BBC version of Merlin; They and Shine do. I am very respectfully borrowing them with no intent to profit. No money has changed hands. No copyright infringement is intended.
o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/
When Merlin was a little boy, he’d often escape into the night, well after his mum was asleep, and follow the music. There was no one there—he’d hunted for the bringers of song. The trees whispered to each other, and leaves rippled in the wind, as the stars shone so brightly that Merlin could have read by their light, there were melodies everywhere in the air.
Almost as if they were singing for him.
With spring, a chorus, joyous and profound, trilled and bubbled with new life. Summer was raucous with birdsong and growing things, and in the autumn, there was the sad dying noise of leaves falling. Sometimes, winter’s base notes, of howling gales and death, seemed to overwhelm Merlin, but there was the quiet of snowfall, too, and the movement underneath the frozen landscape that spoke of rest and hope for a new tomorrow.
As he grew, he tried to explain it to his mum, but it was too overpowering, and besides, there were no words to describe it anyway.
It was only through song, his voice, his use of simple flutes, of drums and lyre, of any instrument he could get his hands on, that he could make some sense of it.
At least, then, when he was showing off a little, entertaining the other children and some of the adults, too, with music, that he could feel connected to them. They seemed to accept him, and it was such a good feeling that he never wanted to stop.
His music may have been his own answer to the songs in the wind and the earth and the stars above, but it was all connected. And it made him happy.
--------------
Camelot was as different as melody to cacophony. There were singers and performers of all kinds traveling through the kingdom, and sometimes, music would flow through the Great Hall, down into the courtyard and echo off the walls of the citadel. It was pleasant enough but although they sung well, the songs were too formal, too many rules and strictures, and nothing to connect them to the wider world. It was though the notes they sung were muffled, without meaning, and Merlin just shook his head and turned away.
Merlin ached to sing, to make music, but he was too wary to bring attention to himself. He had enough problems, what with the magic and fearing for his life and constant chores.
But one day, he noticed a lute, back behind some discarded clothing of Arthur’s. It had been a bloody awful day. He knew Arthur would be at a meeting with his father and that always ended with shouting and Arthur throwing things at Merlin. But that was hours away still and there was the lute, calling to him.
He couldn’t resist, just this once.
It was out of tune, so much so that Merlin despaired of fixing it, but persistence paid off, although it took longer than he thought.
Glancing out the window to see how much time he had before the prat came back and yelled at him, knowing that he had at least a half hour of peace, Merlin sat down and began to strum the lute.
It was like breathing again. Fingers nimble, he made up a song of Camelot, of the joy and fear soaked into its stones, of the hope for a brighter tomorrow. Of sunlight dappled in the woods nearby, the clatter of horses in the courtyard, the bustle of servants, the way the banners snapped in the breeze.
When he was done, he looked up to find Arthur staring at him.
Shit.
archaeologist_dTitle: Music of the Spheres part 1
Rating: G
Pairing/s: none
Character/s: Merlin, Arthur
Summary: Merlin could hear the music in the wind and the earth and the sky and sometimes he would even play to it. Of course, the clotpole finds out.
Warnings: none
Word Count: 606
Camelot_drabble prompt 548: Performance
Author’s notes: AU because we never did get Merlin and Arthur singing together. Broken into 2 parts since it's so long.
Disclaimer: I do not own the BBC version of Merlin; They and Shine do. I am very respectfully borrowing them with no intent to profit. No money has changed hands. No copyright infringement is intended.
o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/
When Merlin was a little boy, he’d often escape into the night, well after his mum was asleep, and follow the music. There was no one there—he’d hunted for the bringers of song. The trees whispered to each other, and leaves rippled in the wind, as the stars shone so brightly that Merlin could have read by their light, there were melodies everywhere in the air.
Almost as if they were singing for him.
With spring, a chorus, joyous and profound, trilled and bubbled with new life. Summer was raucous with birdsong and growing things, and in the autumn, there was the sad dying noise of leaves falling. Sometimes, winter’s base notes, of howling gales and death, seemed to overwhelm Merlin, but there was the quiet of snowfall, too, and the movement underneath the frozen landscape that spoke of rest and hope for a new tomorrow.
As he grew, he tried to explain it to his mum, but it was too overpowering, and besides, there were no words to describe it anyway.
It was only through song, his voice, his use of simple flutes, of drums and lyre, of any instrument he could get his hands on, that he could make some sense of it.
At least, then, when he was showing off a little, entertaining the other children and some of the adults, too, with music, that he could feel connected to them. They seemed to accept him, and it was such a good feeling that he never wanted to stop.
His music may have been his own answer to the songs in the wind and the earth and the stars above, but it was all connected. And it made him happy.
--------------
Camelot was as different as melody to cacophony. There were singers and performers of all kinds traveling through the kingdom, and sometimes, music would flow through the Great Hall, down into the courtyard and echo off the walls of the citadel. It was pleasant enough but although they sung well, the songs were too formal, too many rules and strictures, and nothing to connect them to the wider world. It was though the notes they sung were muffled, without meaning, and Merlin just shook his head and turned away.
Merlin ached to sing, to make music, but he was too wary to bring attention to himself. He had enough problems, what with the magic and fearing for his life and constant chores.
But one day, he noticed a lute, back behind some discarded clothing of Arthur’s. It had been a bloody awful day. He knew Arthur would be at a meeting with his father and that always ended with shouting and Arthur throwing things at Merlin. But that was hours away still and there was the lute, calling to him.
He couldn’t resist, just this once.
It was out of tune, so much so that Merlin despaired of fixing it, but persistence paid off, although it took longer than he thought.
Glancing out the window to see how much time he had before the prat came back and yelled at him, knowing that he had at least a half hour of peace, Merlin sat down and began to strum the lute.
It was like breathing again. Fingers nimble, he made up a song of Camelot, of the joy and fear soaked into its stones, of the hope for a brighter tomorrow. Of sunlight dappled in the woods nearby, the clatter of horses in the courtyard, the bustle of servants, the way the banners snapped in the breeze.
When he was done, he looked up to find Arthur staring at him.
Shit.