Sophinisba Solis (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sophinisba) wrote2009-03-20 10:51 am
sophinisba) wrote2009-03-20 10:51 am
Entry tags:
Merlin drabble set: Revived
Title: Revived
Fandom: Merlin
Character: Edwin
Rating: PG (violence)
Words: 400 (four drabbles)
Spoilers: for 1x06, "A Remedy to Cure All Ills", won't make sense without it.
Summary: It wasn't his plan all along to come back and exact his revenge.
Notes: This may have happened to make up for yesterday's ficlet being so happy. Thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
claudia603 for looking it over.
It wasn't – as some of them whispered, as Edwin himself allowed them to believe – his plan all along to come back for the traitor and the tyrant and exact his revenge. How could he know where he was headed, when he was running screaming, then collapsed on the ground, mad with pain? He wasn't hell bent on revenge, not in those early days, those too-long years. He was only halfway out of hell, doing his best to survive with the fire still clinging to his side like a little brother. Wailing, inconsolable, spoiled little brat, tugging at his right hand.
He didn't remember the king watching stone-faced, arms folded over his chest, ignoring the screams of the sorcerers and their son as easily as he ignored the cries of his own baby boy. He barely remembered the old man (yes, already old then) who first caught him, held him still, smothered the flames, then lifted him onto a table and rubbed him all over with something wet and evil that hurt more than fire itself. He didn't remember how they got him out of the city or what words were said, how he was traded over, got out of sight.
He remembered the work, because as soon as he was able to stand on his own he was earning his keep, carrying messages, sorting ingredients. Looking up with large haunted eyes at those who might take pity and chip in an extra penny for the sake of the boy. Keeping out of sight of those who were frightened of his deformity. The master physician used his young apprentice to handle dangerous materials – after all, his hands were already ruined. The apprentice learned to see the usefulness in dark, ugly things that others feared. He talked to beetles, rats, and witches.
They talked back. They gave him their secret commands, whispered names and histories, told him not to settle for a servant's place, taught him never to settle. So when he was fifteen he murdered his master and made it look like measles. So when he was twenty he'd gone through three apprentices of his own, but through their deaths much knowledge was gained for science. So twenty years after his parents' execution Edwin returned to the courtyard of that castle, and he stood still and calm as a heartless king. The rest – almost all of it – went according to plan.
Fandom: Merlin
Character: Edwin
Rating: PG (violence)
Words: 400 (four drabbles)
Spoilers: for 1x06, "A Remedy to Cure All Ills", won't make sense without it.
Summary: It wasn't his plan all along to come back and exact his revenge.
Notes: This may have happened to make up for yesterday's ficlet being so happy. Thanks to
claudia603 for looking it over.It wasn't – as some of them whispered, as Edwin himself allowed them to believe – his plan all along to come back for the traitor and the tyrant and exact his revenge. How could he know where he was headed, when he was running screaming, then collapsed on the ground, mad with pain? He wasn't hell bent on revenge, not in those early days, those too-long years. He was only halfway out of hell, doing his best to survive with the fire still clinging to his side like a little brother. Wailing, inconsolable, spoiled little brat, tugging at his right hand.
He didn't remember the king watching stone-faced, arms folded over his chest, ignoring the screams of the sorcerers and their son as easily as he ignored the cries of his own baby boy. He barely remembered the old man (yes, already old then) who first caught him, held him still, smothered the flames, then lifted him onto a table and rubbed him all over with something wet and evil that hurt more than fire itself. He didn't remember how they got him out of the city or what words were said, how he was traded over, got out of sight.
He remembered the work, because as soon as he was able to stand on his own he was earning his keep, carrying messages, sorting ingredients. Looking up with large haunted eyes at those who might take pity and chip in an extra penny for the sake of the boy. Keeping out of sight of those who were frightened of his deformity. The master physician used his young apprentice to handle dangerous materials – after all, his hands were already ruined. The apprentice learned to see the usefulness in dark, ugly things that others feared. He talked to beetles, rats, and witches.
They talked back. They gave him their secret commands, whispered names and histories, told him not to settle for a servant's place, taught him never to settle. So when he was fifteen he murdered his master and made it look like measles. So when he was twenty he'd gone through three apprentices of his own, but through their deaths much knowledge was gained for science. So twenty years after his parents' execution Edwin returned to the courtyard of that castle, and he stood still and calm as a heartless king. The rest – almost all of it – went according to plan.