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dollsomeTrue True Love (And Other Disasters) - In which Vivian is frankly too fabulous to be messed with, and Arthur and Merlin concoct a desperate scheme.
Vivian binds their wrists with ropes and drags them along like puppies through (very dark) hill and dale. Merlin tries to sever the ropes with magic right away, but it’s no good; they just glow an ominous gold color and remain obstinately, well, rope-like.
“Thank God Morgana wasn’t awake to see this,” Arthur mutters. “She probably would have smirked her face off. Have you noticed she’s been particularly smirky lately?”
“Er, yeah,” Merlin says nonchalantly. “Wonder what that’s about.”
“Who knows with girls?” Arthur says, staring rather despairingly up ahead at Vivian. She’s singing to herself and skipping along at an impractically speedy pace. Whenever Arthur and Merlin start to lag behind, she pulls on the ropes to make them keep up with her. Hard.
It’s not that Merlin doubts Vivian’s capable of terrifying feats of strength on her own. He really doesn’t. But he’s starting to wonder about the long term effects of this love spell.
“What are you muttering about back there?” Vivian calls. “It better be about how much you looooove meeeee, Arthurpoo!”
“Arthurpoo,” Arthur mutters to himself, looking nauseated.
“That’s quite good, actually,” Merlin says fairly.
Arthur stomps on his foot.
+
When Vivian finally gets tired, she ties Merlin and Arthur to a tree, curls up into a rather adorable ball on the ground, and falls asleep.
“You know, this is all your fault,” Arthur declares over Vivian’s dainty snores.
“My fault??”
“Yes, Merlin. Your fault.”
“And how do you figure that, sire?”
“If you had washed my socks like a good servant, I would have the energy that comes from wearing a fresh pair of socks instead of a dirty old pair. That energy, in turn, would have inspired me to find a swift and ingenious way out of this situation.”
Merlin considers this argument for a moment, then replies, “Yeah, I’m pretty certain it’s your fault. You’re the one she’s in love with.”
“I didn’t ask her to be in love with me!” Arthur howls so loud it sets all the birds in the forest aflight. His eyes are about the size of plates, and his hair is sticking up at mad angles.
“Maybe you should try to be less irresistible,” Merlin suggests helpfully.
“Shut up, Merlin,” Arthur grumbles.
Just this once, Arthur looks so pathetic that Merlin actually does.
+
“Where, exactly, are we going, Lady Vivian?” Arthur asks when they’re on the road (well, overgrown forest path) again.
“To the most romantic place in the world,” Lady Vivian replies.
Arthur and Merlin exchange a doubtful look. “And where ... is that?”
“Wherever you decide you love me, of course. We’ve got time, and I have absolute loads of energy! I do love a brisk stride across a vast expanse of land, don’t you?”
NO, Merlin mouths emphatically, making Arthur glare at him.
“Lady Vivian,” Arthur says, “I fear you’re in for a grave disappointment.”
“You’ll be in for a grave in general if you keep talking like that.”
Arthur makes a face. “Did you just threaten to kill me?”
“Maybe a little bit,” Lady Vivian says tranquilly.
“What kind of wooing is that?”
“The confident kind. I know you’ll love me sooner or later, because if you don’t, life will become so unmanageably wretched that I’ll give up on it altogether.” For just a moment, Vivian’s face turns wan and sad; she looks impossibly old, as if she’d spent a century with no company save for her own despair. But then it passes and she brightens again. “But I know that won’t happen. Do keep up, boys!”
+
“Love spells are a very nasty business, aren’t they?” Arthur says glumly awhile later as they trudge on.
Merlin replies, “They’re not all hearts and flowers, that’s for sure.”
“When Guinevere kissed me, that snapped me out of it.”
“True love’s kiss.”
“True love,” Arthur muses softly.
“Uh oh,” says Merlin.
Arthur looks thoughtful for a moment before clearing his throat and approaching Lady Vivian. No good can come of this. Merlin tries to say No, wait, stop it, come back, what do you think you’re doing, she’s going to snap you in half like a twig, you prat!!!! with his eyes. It doesn’t appear to work.
“Lady Vivian,” Arthur is saying in his most chivalrous tones, “honored though I am by your attention and your incredible devotion, I simply cannot return your feelings.”
“Oh really?” Vivian puts her hands on her hips. “And why not?”
“I’m afraid ...” Arthur pauses and takes a deep breath. STOP, Merlin wills him, but before he has time to magic the situation better, Arthur has already declared, “I love another.”
“ANOTHER??” Vivian shrieks.
Merlin’s not sure if anything else has ever been quite so loud. Dragons included.
“But you can’t! It’s impossible! Who is she? I’ll pop her eyes out! There’s no way they sparkle as brightly as mine do. And her hair! What sort of hair has she got? Out with it, then! It doesn’t matter, in fact: I’ll pull that out too! If you think there is another girl in all the world who could rival me, Arthur Pendragon, then you’re sorely mistaken—”
“I don’t think that any girl could rival you,” Arthur interrupts placatingly. Merlin can tell he’s nervous.
“Oh don’t you?”
“You see, the ... person I love ...” For a moment, Arthur gets a look on his face that convinces Merlin he’s about to vomit. He doesn’t, though. Instead, what he does is finish that sentence with the words: “... is Merlin.”
Merlin has no idea what to do with that.
So he just stares, mostly.
Arthur stares back at him, his expression an odd mix of almost-convincing OH MY ONE TRUE LOVE and much more believable PLAY ALONG, YOU IDIOT.
Vivian’s gaze whirls around to Merlin. Merlin tries to look like the object of Arthur’s affection. He quickly concludes that really, he doesn’t know how Gwen does it.
“Merlin?” Vivian says at last. “That Merlin?”
“That very Merlin,” Arthur confirms sorrowfully.
“But he’s so – so Merlin!” Vivian starts laughing. “Arthur, are you serious?”
“Alas, I am. I know he’s not much to look at – believe me.” Arthur has to raise his voice over Vivian’s shrieks of laughter.
“Hey!” Merlin says.
“But his loyalty and devotion,” Arthur bellows on over Vivian’s cackling, “won my heart long ago. And I must remain true to my love for him, Lady Vivian, for it is as steadfast as your love for me.”
Lady Vivian stops laughing (after awhile, at least), and seems to consider Arthur’s words. While she does, Merlin waits for her to kill and possibly eat both him and Arthur. And tries not to think too much about loyalty and devotion, because that’s just veering dangerously close to the truth.
And then very abruptly: “Well, that’s all right, then.”
“What?” Merlin says, dumbfounded.
“He’s not exactly competition, now is he?” Vivian says, throwing a disdainful glance Merlin’s way. “Like you said. Look at him.”
“Hey!” Merlin reiterates. It really doesn’t seem to have hit home the first time.
“His ears – they’re just so—”
“I know,” Arthur says.
“And his hair can’t even begin to compare to mine!”
“There’s no denying that,” Arthur says.
“And really, Merlin. What’s with the scarf?” Vivian wrinkles her nose. “Is your neck that cold?”
“Haha! Good one!” Arthur says. He actually looks genuinely delighted for a moment. Then he remembers that he’s being tugged around on a rope by a love spell-addled super princess.
“And what about you, then?” Vivian asks Merlin briskly. “Do you love him too?”
Merlin bursts into an uncontrollable coughing fit. There’s really nothing else that can be done.
Arthur glares daggers at him. No, make that swords.
“Um,” Merlin finally manages to choke out. “Yes. Of course. Absolutely. Takes my breath away, really.”
“You love him,” Vivian says doubtfully.
Merlin forces himself to look at Arthur.
“I ... love him,” Merlin says.
Arthur smirks at Merlin and bounces a triumphant little bounce. It’s really the height of Prince Prat behavior.
“Fine,” Vivian says. “I do love a good competition. Not,” she adds, throwing a significant glance at Merlin’s neck scarf, “that this is one.”
“A competition?”
“I think I’ll very much enjoy wooing you away from your big-eared servant love,” Vivian declares, grinning radiantly and a bit naughtily at Arthur.
“Oh, but ... you can’t, you see.” Arthur throws an arm over Merlin’s shoulders. Or, well, tries to. Then he remembers that his wrists are bound. Instead, he settles for walloping Merlin’s shoulder with his fists in what Merlin guesses is an affectionate gesture. “You see, ours is a true love. Isn’t it, Merlin?”
“Oh, uh,” Merlin says. Arthur stomps on his foot. It’s very inspiring. “Yep. The truest, really.”
“There’s no force on earth that can stop this love,” Arthur continues in booming tones.
“I can,” Vivian wastes no time in replying.
Arthur looks annoyed. “You cannot! Didn’t I just tell you that nothing could stop it?”
“Nothing else, maybe,” Vivian says. “But I’m exceptional, and really very determined. Your heart will be mine, Arthur Pendragon, even if I have to dirty my nails plucking it out of your chest.”
“That’s not at all charming,” Arthur says sternly. “That’s just morbid. There, you see: Merlin would never say anything like that.”
“He wouldn’t,” Vivian says; she looks rather pensive, like she’d jot down notes if she wasn’t out in the middle of the forest dragging two grown men around.
“My nails are usually dirty anyway,” Merlin explains.
Arthur glares at him.
“... and I would never pluck Arthur’s heart out,” he adds quickly. “That would be a very lousy way to treat your true love.”
“Well, aren’t you high and mighty!” Vivian sniffs. “For now.”
“For always,” Merlin retorts. “Because that’s how long our true love will last.”
“Damned right you are, Merlin,” Arthur says, then pats him awkwardly on the shoulder with his bound hands again.
Vivian makes a face at them. “Make no mistake, Arthur: you’ll still be mine one day soon. But ...” She pauses for a moment, then adds, more earnestly, “I understand how things like loyalty and devotion can make one believe they’re in love.”
“Indeed,” Arthur says, casting an uncomfortable glance Merlin’s way. “And ... had you ever felt such loyalty and devotion before we met, Lady Vivian?”
Ah. So there’s the point, then: Vivian’s true love. It took Arthur bloody long enough to get there. And at a seriously humiliating cost.
Vivian looks lost in thought. “Why, do you know, back before I met you and discovered what true love is, I had very similar feelings for ...” She stops abruptly. “But never mind it. That’s all in the past now.”
“We love the past,” Merlin says. “Please, tell us more about it.”
“Subtle,” Arthur mutters.
“Thank you, darling,” Merlin mutters back pointedly. Arthur grimaces.
“Indeed I won’t!” Vivian says. She tugs on the rope that binds them. “Now come on. Let’s see if we can cross paths with some foul wild beastie. Nothing gets one’s heart racing like a brush with death! Remember the tournament you fought in our brief few days together, my sweet?”
“Not really,” Arthur says. “My brain’s mostly full of thoughts of Merlin.”
Merlin tries to look like the stuff daydreams are made of.
Vivian isn’t too threatened.
“Don’t worry,” she says, prancing over and putting a finger beneath Arthur’s chin. “I’ll remind you of the delicious time we spent together. In bed. Snogging.”
“No big deal,” Merlin says nonchalantly. “I snog him in his bed all the time.”
“Yes,” Arthur says, not quite managing to keep the strain out of his voice. “He does.”
Vivian shrugs. “He did,” she corrects cheerily, then skips onward.
“If I have to really snog you, I want a pay raise,” Merlin mutters.
“If you have to really snog me, you’ll have to find another prince to serve, Merlin,” Arthur replies, “because I’ll have thrown myself off the nearest bridge.”
“Good to see you’re keeping things in perspective,” says Merlin.
And Vivian drags them along.
To be continued!
Vivian binds their wrists with ropes and drags them along like puppies through (very dark) hill and dale. Merlin tries to sever the ropes with magic right away, but it’s no good; they just glow an ominous gold color and remain obstinately, well, rope-like.
“Thank God Morgana wasn’t awake to see this,” Arthur mutters. “She probably would have smirked her face off. Have you noticed she’s been particularly smirky lately?”
“Er, yeah,” Merlin says nonchalantly. “Wonder what that’s about.”
“Who knows with girls?” Arthur says, staring rather despairingly up ahead at Vivian. She’s singing to herself and skipping along at an impractically speedy pace. Whenever Arthur and Merlin start to lag behind, she pulls on the ropes to make them keep up with her. Hard.
It’s not that Merlin doubts Vivian’s capable of terrifying feats of strength on her own. He really doesn’t. But he’s starting to wonder about the long term effects of this love spell.
“What are you muttering about back there?” Vivian calls. “It better be about how much you looooove meeeee, Arthurpoo!”
“Arthurpoo,” Arthur mutters to himself, looking nauseated.
“That’s quite good, actually,” Merlin says fairly.
Arthur stomps on his foot.
+
When Vivian finally gets tired, she ties Merlin and Arthur to a tree, curls up into a rather adorable ball on the ground, and falls asleep.
“You know, this is all your fault,” Arthur declares over Vivian’s dainty snores.
“My fault??”
“Yes, Merlin. Your fault.”
“And how do you figure that, sire?”
“If you had washed my socks like a good servant, I would have the energy that comes from wearing a fresh pair of socks instead of a dirty old pair. That energy, in turn, would have inspired me to find a swift and ingenious way out of this situation.”
Merlin considers this argument for a moment, then replies, “Yeah, I’m pretty certain it’s your fault. You’re the one she’s in love with.”
“I didn’t ask her to be in love with me!” Arthur howls so loud it sets all the birds in the forest aflight. His eyes are about the size of plates, and his hair is sticking up at mad angles.
“Maybe you should try to be less irresistible,” Merlin suggests helpfully.
“Shut up, Merlin,” Arthur grumbles.
Just this once, Arthur looks so pathetic that Merlin actually does.
+
“Where, exactly, are we going, Lady Vivian?” Arthur asks when they’re on the road (well, overgrown forest path) again.
“To the most romantic place in the world,” Lady Vivian replies.
Arthur and Merlin exchange a doubtful look. “And where ... is that?”
“Wherever you decide you love me, of course. We’ve got time, and I have absolute loads of energy! I do love a brisk stride across a vast expanse of land, don’t you?”
NO, Merlin mouths emphatically, making Arthur glare at him.
“Lady Vivian,” Arthur says, “I fear you’re in for a grave disappointment.”
“You’ll be in for a grave in general if you keep talking like that.”
Arthur makes a face. “Did you just threaten to kill me?”
“Maybe a little bit,” Lady Vivian says tranquilly.
“What kind of wooing is that?”
“The confident kind. I know you’ll love me sooner or later, because if you don’t, life will become so unmanageably wretched that I’ll give up on it altogether.” For just a moment, Vivian’s face turns wan and sad; she looks impossibly old, as if she’d spent a century with no company save for her own despair. But then it passes and she brightens again. “But I know that won’t happen. Do keep up, boys!”
+
“Love spells are a very nasty business, aren’t they?” Arthur says glumly awhile later as they trudge on.
Merlin replies, “They’re not all hearts and flowers, that’s for sure.”
“When Guinevere kissed me, that snapped me out of it.”
“True love’s kiss.”
“True love,” Arthur muses softly.
“Uh oh,” says Merlin.
Arthur looks thoughtful for a moment before clearing his throat and approaching Lady Vivian. No good can come of this. Merlin tries to say No, wait, stop it, come back, what do you think you’re doing, she’s going to snap you in half like a twig, you prat!!!! with his eyes. It doesn’t appear to work.
“Lady Vivian,” Arthur is saying in his most chivalrous tones, “honored though I am by your attention and your incredible devotion, I simply cannot return your feelings.”
“Oh really?” Vivian puts her hands on her hips. “And why not?”
“I’m afraid ...” Arthur pauses and takes a deep breath. STOP, Merlin wills him, but before he has time to magic the situation better, Arthur has already declared, “I love another.”
“ANOTHER??” Vivian shrieks.
Merlin’s not sure if anything else has ever been quite so loud. Dragons included.
“But you can’t! It’s impossible! Who is she? I’ll pop her eyes out! There’s no way they sparkle as brightly as mine do. And her hair! What sort of hair has she got? Out with it, then! It doesn’t matter, in fact: I’ll pull that out too! If you think there is another girl in all the world who could rival me, Arthur Pendragon, then you’re sorely mistaken—”
“I don’t think that any girl could rival you,” Arthur interrupts placatingly. Merlin can tell he’s nervous.
“Oh don’t you?”
“You see, the ... person I love ...” For a moment, Arthur gets a look on his face that convinces Merlin he’s about to vomit. He doesn’t, though. Instead, what he does is finish that sentence with the words: “... is Merlin.”
Merlin has no idea what to do with that.
So he just stares, mostly.
Arthur stares back at him, his expression an odd mix of almost-convincing OH MY ONE TRUE LOVE and much more believable PLAY ALONG, YOU IDIOT.
Vivian’s gaze whirls around to Merlin. Merlin tries to look like the object of Arthur’s affection. He quickly concludes that really, he doesn’t know how Gwen does it.
“Merlin?” Vivian says at last. “That Merlin?”
“That very Merlin,” Arthur confirms sorrowfully.
“But he’s so – so Merlin!” Vivian starts laughing. “Arthur, are you serious?”
“Alas, I am. I know he’s not much to look at – believe me.” Arthur has to raise his voice over Vivian’s shrieks of laughter.
“Hey!” Merlin says.
“But his loyalty and devotion,” Arthur bellows on over Vivian’s cackling, “won my heart long ago. And I must remain true to my love for him, Lady Vivian, for it is as steadfast as your love for me.”
Lady Vivian stops laughing (after awhile, at least), and seems to consider Arthur’s words. While she does, Merlin waits for her to kill and possibly eat both him and Arthur. And tries not to think too much about loyalty and devotion, because that’s just veering dangerously close to the truth.
And then very abruptly: “Well, that’s all right, then.”
“What?” Merlin says, dumbfounded.
“He’s not exactly competition, now is he?” Vivian says, throwing a disdainful glance Merlin’s way. “Like you said. Look at him.”
“Hey!” Merlin reiterates. It really doesn’t seem to have hit home the first time.
“His ears – they’re just so—”
“I know,” Arthur says.
“And his hair can’t even begin to compare to mine!”
“There’s no denying that,” Arthur says.
“And really, Merlin. What’s with the scarf?” Vivian wrinkles her nose. “Is your neck that cold?”
“Haha! Good one!” Arthur says. He actually looks genuinely delighted for a moment. Then he remembers that he’s being tugged around on a rope by a love spell-addled super princess.
“And what about you, then?” Vivian asks Merlin briskly. “Do you love him too?”
Merlin bursts into an uncontrollable coughing fit. There’s really nothing else that can be done.
Arthur glares daggers at him. No, make that swords.
“Um,” Merlin finally manages to choke out. “Yes. Of course. Absolutely. Takes my breath away, really.”
“You love him,” Vivian says doubtfully.
Merlin forces himself to look at Arthur.
“I ... love him,” Merlin says.
Arthur smirks at Merlin and bounces a triumphant little bounce. It’s really the height of Prince Prat behavior.
“Fine,” Vivian says. “I do love a good competition. Not,” she adds, throwing a significant glance at Merlin’s neck scarf, “that this is one.”
“A competition?”
“I think I’ll very much enjoy wooing you away from your big-eared servant love,” Vivian declares, grinning radiantly and a bit naughtily at Arthur.
“Oh, but ... you can’t, you see.” Arthur throws an arm over Merlin’s shoulders. Or, well, tries to. Then he remembers that his wrists are bound. Instead, he settles for walloping Merlin’s shoulder with his fists in what Merlin guesses is an affectionate gesture. “You see, ours is a true love. Isn’t it, Merlin?”
“Oh, uh,” Merlin says. Arthur stomps on his foot. It’s very inspiring. “Yep. The truest, really.”
“There’s no force on earth that can stop this love,” Arthur continues in booming tones.
“I can,” Vivian wastes no time in replying.
Arthur looks annoyed. “You cannot! Didn’t I just tell you that nothing could stop it?”
“Nothing else, maybe,” Vivian says. “But I’m exceptional, and really very determined. Your heart will be mine, Arthur Pendragon, even if I have to dirty my nails plucking it out of your chest.”
“That’s not at all charming,” Arthur says sternly. “That’s just morbid. There, you see: Merlin would never say anything like that.”
“He wouldn’t,” Vivian says; she looks rather pensive, like she’d jot down notes if she wasn’t out in the middle of the forest dragging two grown men around.
“My nails are usually dirty anyway,” Merlin explains.
Arthur glares at him.
“... and I would never pluck Arthur’s heart out,” he adds quickly. “That would be a very lousy way to treat your true love.”
“Well, aren’t you high and mighty!” Vivian sniffs. “For now.”
“For always,” Merlin retorts. “Because that’s how long our true love will last.”
“Damned right you are, Merlin,” Arthur says, then pats him awkwardly on the shoulder with his bound hands again.
Vivian makes a face at them. “Make no mistake, Arthur: you’ll still be mine one day soon. But ...” She pauses for a moment, then adds, more earnestly, “I understand how things like loyalty and devotion can make one believe they’re in love.”
“Indeed,” Arthur says, casting an uncomfortable glance Merlin’s way. “And ... had you ever felt such loyalty and devotion before we met, Lady Vivian?”
Ah. So there’s the point, then: Vivian’s true love. It took Arthur bloody long enough to get there. And at a seriously humiliating cost.
Vivian looks lost in thought. “Why, do you know, back before I met you and discovered what true love is, I had very similar feelings for ...” She stops abruptly. “But never mind it. That’s all in the past now.”
“We love the past,” Merlin says. “Please, tell us more about it.”
“Subtle,” Arthur mutters.
“Thank you, darling,” Merlin mutters back pointedly. Arthur grimaces.
“Indeed I won’t!” Vivian says. She tugs on the rope that binds them. “Now come on. Let’s see if we can cross paths with some foul wild beastie. Nothing gets one’s heart racing like a brush with death! Remember the tournament you fought in our brief few days together, my sweet?”
“Not really,” Arthur says. “My brain’s mostly full of thoughts of Merlin.”
Merlin tries to look like the stuff daydreams are made of.
Vivian isn’t too threatened.
“Don’t worry,” she says, prancing over and putting a finger beneath Arthur’s chin. “I’ll remind you of the delicious time we spent together. In bed. Snogging.”
“No big deal,” Merlin says nonchalantly. “I snog him in his bed all the time.”
“Yes,” Arthur says, not quite managing to keep the strain out of his voice. “He does.”
Vivian shrugs. “He did,” she corrects cheerily, then skips onward.
“If I have to really snog you, I want a pay raise,” Merlin mutters.
“If you have to really snog me, you’ll have to find another prince to serve, Merlin,” Arthur replies, “because I’ll have thrown myself off the nearest bridge.”
“Good to see you’re keeping things in perspective,” says Merlin.
And Vivian drags them along.
To be continued!
