All is Semblative.pdf

All is Semblative

Summary:

Cinderella, Merlin-style. Somehow, not AU. Or crack. Uther throws three balls to try to find

Arthur a wife, sort of. Merlin has some issues with this.

Notes:

Title is from Shakespeare's Twelfth Night: "All is semblative a woman's part."

Work Text:

Once upon a time, Merlin had a plan.

It was a bad, horrible, disastrous, evil, soul-destroyingÈArthurian plan, and Merlin should

have realized that from the beginning but didnÔt because he really was an idiot and also just

didnÔt learn, and he really should have given up on this magic business long ago because

clearly he was rubbish at it and just gone off to live in a cave somewhere or locked himself

inside a tree where he could never traumatize anyone ever again, especially himself.

The bad, evil, absolutely no good plan started innocuously enough. Or as innocuous as

Uther throwing an extravagant three-day ball with the expressly stated intent to find Arthur

a wife could be.

ÑSo, why is he doing this?Ò

Merlin was perched on the trunk in ArthurÔs room, busily polishing his helmet in the sense

that he wasnÔt polishing it at all, more like attempting to look busy until Arthur got bored

and left and Merlin could finish the job using magic. Even though Arthur did know about

the whole sorcerer business now, Merlin still had a sneaking suspicion that the prince

wouldnÔt react too kindly to Merlin using his magic to do his chores right under Uther

PendragonÔs nose just because he was a lazy arse. Gaius wasnÔt so fond of the idea either,

but Merlin figured what they didnÔt know couldnÔt hurt them. Or him. (Arthur had taken

the whole magic thing surprisingly well, actually, if you didnÔt count the initial explosion

with the accusations of enchantments and bewitching, and then the week of not speaking to

Merlin or acknowledging his presence at all, followed by a truly grueling week of sparring

and hunting trips that left Merlin sore for weeks, all interspersed with lectures about how

being magic didnÔt mean he was immortal, so would he please stop throwing himself in

front of magical monsters and trying to sacrifice himself before he forced the prince to put

him out of his misery because Merlin was definitely the worst sorcerer heÔd ever

seen. Other than that, Arthur had been grand.)

ÑYou were there,Ò Arthur said absently, feet propped up on the table and fiddling with his

dagger. Even after all this time, the habit still made Merlin faintly nervous.

Merlin restrained himself from rolling his eyes, mainly because that would interfere with

the Very Busy persona he was attempting to maintain. Merlin had been there, although he

wasnÔt entirely sure why; but Arthur knew that wasnÔt what he had meant. ÑI mean, why is

the King doing this now? Why not ten years from now, or never?Ò

Arthur snorted, but said, ÑMy father wants to see what IÔll sell for, and the best way to get

the highest offers possible is to make sure everyone knows itÔs a competition. Officially heÔll

say itÔs my decision, but unofficially, he gets the final say. That way, he doesnÔt risk losing

anything to my whims, but he can still blame my ÓcontrarinessÔ if he doesnÔt get a good

enough offer. Which he wonÔt. I donÔt think my father is ready to throw away such a

valuable bargaining chip just yet.Ò

ÑOh.Ò Merlin paused in his not-polishing; he couldnÔt think of much to say to that. The

idea of using marriage as a bargaining chip was just another facet of ArthurÔs life that was

as foreign to him as flying was to a fish. ÑBut what ifÈyou do find someone?Ò

ÑI wonÔt.Ò

ÑHow can you be so sure?Ò

ÑMy father will want to show me off, and there will be so many people there that I doubt IÔll

get to talk to anyone for more than a few minutes. One sentence does not true love make.Ò

ÑButÐÑ

ÑIt doesnÔt matter.Ò Arthur stood and sheathed his dagger in one smooth motion that made

Merlin faintly jealous. ÑEven if I didÈbut I wonÔt, so it doesnÔt matter.Ò With a final vague

hand gesture that reminded Merlin of when Arthur was trying to refer to magic ÓsubtlyÔ, the

prince left his chambers and Merlin was forced to consider the subject closed.

At least he could start on his chores properly now.

ÑWhat do you mean I canÔt go?Ò

Arthur completely ignored MerlinÔs spluttering and continued to dig into his chicken leg

with great gusto. ÑItÔs going to be a huge ball, Merlin; if personal servants were allowed to

attend, there wouldnÔt be room to stand.Ò

ÑSo thereÔll be no servants at all?Ò Merlin felt both incredulous and awed by the

concept. Imagine, all those royals pouring their own drinks, spilling blood red wine all over

their fine silkÈ

ÑOf course there will be,Ò Arthur scoffed, carelessly shattering MerlinÔs happy

vision. ÑCastle servants, kitchen staff; servants who donÔt belong to anyone in

particular. We canÔt have hundreds of maidservants getting underfoot, and if the ladies

arenÔt allowed their maidservants then in the interests of fairness all personal servants must

be banned.Ò

ÑEven me?Ò Merlin hadnÔt meant to say it, really; it had just come out despite himself in his

disbelief. Since when did he get excused from anything?

Arthur laughed. ÑContrary to what you seem to believe, Merlin, your ineptitude does not

make you special. YouÔll have the evening off.Ò

And that just wasnÔt fair; after all the banquets heÔd had to suffer through with Arthur, now

when the event held some real entertainment value and mocking potential, he couldnÔt even

watch? ÑButÐÑ

ÑMerlin. You canÔt come. How many times do I have to say it before it gets through your

thick head?Ò

So of course Merlin made it his new lifeÔs goal to get into that ball no matter what, even if

he had to use magic to do it.

In hindsight, thatÔs where things really started to go terribly wrong. Gaius was always

harping on about the importance of intentions in magic, as well as the actual spoken words,

but Merlin only listened about half the time, mainly because he was usually too exhausted

from working for Arthur to properly concentrate. His book mentioned intentions too,

which was why it explained the effects of certain spells down to minutiae; you had to know

what you wanted to happen as well as how to make it happen if the spell was going to

work.

Neither the book nor Gaius had ever mentioned that intentions could make the spell do

something else entirely.

In hindsight, Merlin should probably have conducted some trial runs (as Gaius was so fond

of saying) or made some attempt to settle his mind or maybe even read the spell straight out

of the book instead of trying to recite it from memory. In hindsight, all of these were

wonderful ideas that he definitely should have invested in, but at the time Merlin just

couldnÔt be bothered. And so it shouldnÔt have been a surprise when things went terribly

wrong.

It was MerlinÔs life, after all. Clearly he had been cursed at a young age. (Maybe it was that

goat that had lived in the bakerÔs yard when Merlin was little and stared at him

unblinkingly every time he had to cross the field to go see Will. Those bottomless black eyes

had always been more than a little creepy, and the goatÔs abrupt disappearance one year

more than a little suspicious.)

It was supposed to be a camouflaging spell, something that would allow him to pass

unnoticed through the hoards of people in the ballroom. Initially he wanted to do an

invisibility spell, but after a tiny bit of experimentation with that he discovered that the spell

made the caster invisible even to themselves, and decided that it was far too unsettling to do

anything when he was never quite sure where all his body parts were. If he couldnÔt even

make it across his own room without knocking something over with a stray invisible limb,

he had no chance in a crowded ballroom. People would start screaming sorcerer in seconds

flat.

So this spell was a bit different. It basically caused people not to notice him, allowed him to

slip past their attention and blend in. He would still be physically present, and people

would notice him enough to avoid bumping into him or sitting on him or anything similarly

awkward, but that would be about the extent of it. According to the spell, no one would

even be able to look straight at him. It was perfect.

The night of the first ball Merlin helped Arthur get ready and did his best to appear

innocent and completely not suspicious in any way. Merlin thought he was doing quite

well until Arthur asked him flat out what idiotic thing he was planning now. For once

MerlinÔs mind helped him out (because whatever Arthur said, he was not actually an idiot)

and he said he was meeting Gwen, who also had the night off. Merlin was actually

prepared to elaborate, but Arthur seemed to shut down at that, and was quiet for the rest of

the preparation. Merlin was confused, but he definitely didnÔt want to answer any more

questions and he had more important things to deal with tonight than another of ArthurÔs

odd moods, so he let it go.

As soon as he had seen Arthur off in all his red and gold glory, Merlin slipped down the hall

in the opposite direction, using servants' passages to reach the ballroom safely. Even two

corridors away he could tell this was going to be hard, even with magic on his side; Arthur

hadn't been kidding about the numbers. Noblewomen of all flavours lined the halls,

chatting with each other amiably enough while they waited for their turn to enter. The

lines bunched up at the double-door entrance to the ballroom, where a pair of guards asked

names and performed cursory weapon checks before admitting lady after lady. A fuzzy

sense of camaraderie floated through the halls, and Merlin felt sure that many of the

women weren't here by their own volition.

And so when Merlin withdrew into an alcove and muttered his spell, perhaps he wasnÔt

concentrating as much he should have been on the camouflaging intent of the spell, and

perhaps thinking a bit too much about the noblewomenÔs plight and how it must feel for

them, being paraded in front of Arthur like prize mares by their relatives. But Merlin felt

the spell work regardless, so he assumed he hadnÔt been as distracted as he thought. Until

he properly took stock of the situation, that was. When he actually realized what had

happened, he quickly became properly engulfed by horror.

Observation number one: Merlin was wearing a dress. A dress that he most definitely did

not own, had not been wearing moments ago, and had in fact never seen before in his

life. It was made of dark red silk to match the fanciest dresses in the waiting lines, and

embroidered at the edges with swirling gold patterns that reminded Merlin of fire. A closer

look revealed tiny dragons in the stitching, and with slight horror Merlin realized he and

Arthur now matched.

Observation two: his head felt heavy. Merlin reached up experimentally, and found that he

had a lot more hair than he remembered. Moreover, something had been done to it; he felt

patterns beneath his hand, where the hair had been twisted and coiled in some bizarre

fashion. He shook his head, but despite the impossible balance, the entire mess did not

collapse on the spot. Silky strands brushed across the back of his neck, making him shiver

at the unexpected contact. As he reached back to test the length of his hair, he encountered

a chain around his neck, and followed it down to a red gem clutched in gold talons. It

looked ordinary enough but when he touched it he felt the magic glowing warmly inside.

Observation three: something else felt very, very wrong. This one, being vaguer than the

others, required a bit more exploration, and so Merlin took a moment to think it

through. His hands looked weird, but he couldnÔt figure out quite what was wrong until he

took a step and then oh.

A girl. He had turned himself into a bloody girl. By accident.

That shouldnÔt even be possible.

Merlin took a deep breath and tried not to scream or die Ï or faint, which would be by far

more disastrous than those first two. HeÔd set the intended spell to wear off at midnight;

with any luck, thisÈwhatever it was would be over then too. So all he had to do was

survive until the clock struck twelve.

Merlin paused. He looked at himself, at the lines of waiting ladies, and then at the guards.

ÈHe hadnÔt turned himself into a girl for nothing.

A simpler, much more temporary version of the initial camouflage spell (said with utmost

concentration this time) got him past the guards without having to give a name, and then he

was out in a swirling sea of blues, greens, golds and reds all topped by beautiful, chattering

faces and promptly forgot what he was supposed to be doing.

ÑExtravagant, isnÔt it?Ò a voice said beside MerlinÔs ear, and the sorcerer barely managed to

stop himself jumping a foot in the air and making an utter fool of himself. With wide eyes

that he couldnÔt seem to shut, he turned to look at Morgana.

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