Wherein there is fic
Sep. 20th, 2009 12:09 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
auntiemeeshI wrote fic. Well, something between a drabble and a ficlet, but still. I wrote, that's the important thing.
Title: How to Win Friends and Influence People
Fandom: Merlin
Spoilers: 2x01 The Curse of Cornelius Sigan, probably won't make much sense if you haven't seen the episode.
Character: Cedric
Summary: sort of but not quite a character study of Cedric, sort of a fix for things that bugged me about 2x01.
Beta: not a soul, any illiteracy or wtfery are mine
word count: 568
A/N: I've read a lot of comments about the weird and frustrating regression in the behavior/relationship between Arthur and Merlin. Many people noticed it and have lots and lots of different and really interesting ideas about it. For me, I think it was a combination of lazy writing (they needed Cedric to weasel his way into Arthur's trust and sacrificed consistence characterization to do it) and maybe a desire to start building up the Arthur/Gwen relationship and get rid of that pesky slashiness between Arthur and Merlin. They wouldn't be the first show writers to respond the same way. This fic is my way of retconning things so that it works within the continuity of the show.
How to Win Friends and Influence People
Cedric had always been good at influencing people. Especially those who were unsuspecting. Sometimes he didn’t even have to do anything other than think very hard about what he wanted to have happen.
Once upon a time he’d been the son of a farmer, working in the fields and tending the beasts sixteen hours a day. It had definitely not been the life for him, but that had all changed the day a moderately rich nobleman had ridden into their village. Cedric had paid a visit to the inn that evening and found the man deep in his cups at a table by the fire, rich jewels sparkling on his fingers and at his neck. An hour of quiet conversation later, with Cedric doing his best to convince the man he was overheated and exhausted, the considerably less rich nobleman was asleep with his head on the table and his cloak lying on the floor, rings and brooch gone. Within minutes, Cedric was gone as well. Back to the farm he loathed just long enough to stuff his few prized possessions into a bag and ‘borrow’ the one horse. By morning he was long miles from anywhere familiar, with a pocket full of illicitly gain riches and a whole new future ahead of him.
That had been more than ten years ago, and Cedric had never looked back. That’s not to say life had always been easy. On the contrary, some years the pickings were quite slim and he spent as much time sleeping in barns and under hedges as he did on soft beds with warm covers. Truthfully, he spent most nights sleeping on the rushes of some village inn, not enough coin to rent a flea-riddled pallet for the night, but plenty to get drunk enough that sleeping on dirty rushes didn’t bother him.
This was his big chance, though. Going by the descriptions the current dim-wit was giving him, this was a treasure that would set him up for life. All he needed to do was get in the good graces of some princeling with more privilege than sense and he’d never have to live rough again.
It turned out to be even easier than he’d expected. The princeling had a truly daft servant, all gangly limbs and guileless eyes. It was child’s play to make him appear even more incompetent than he really was, and only slightly harder to make the princeling’s normal state of frustrated amusement melt into true frustration and then anger.
From there, it was almost disappointingly easy to steal the keys and make his way to the lower levels of the castle and the freshly excavated treasure vault. That's when things started going unexpectedly sideways, with Cornelius Sigan dominating his body and exulting inside his mind, on the verge of destroying Camelot and all of the fools that looked to its useless king and prince to keep them safe. And then, to be conquered by that same daft servant who’d seemed so utterly powerless and inept. In the last, fleeting moments of his life, too focused on his freedom from possession to notice his impending death, Cedric only thought he’d perhaps do a bit more research next time. And then, breath halted, eyes dimming, with one last wail of anger that death would not be swayed by his influence he slid into nothingness.
Title: How to Win Friends and Influence People
Fandom: Merlin
Spoilers: 2x01 The Curse of Cornelius Sigan, probably won't make much sense if you haven't seen the episode.
Character: Cedric
Summary: sort of but not quite a character study of Cedric, sort of a fix for things that bugged me about 2x01.
Beta: not a soul, any illiteracy or wtfery are mine
word count: 568
A/N: I've read a lot of comments about the weird and frustrating regression in the behavior/relationship between Arthur and Merlin. Many people noticed it and have lots and lots of different and really interesting ideas about it. For me, I think it was a combination of lazy writing (they needed Cedric to weasel his way into Arthur's trust and sacrificed consistence characterization to do it) and maybe a desire to start building up the Arthur/Gwen relationship and get rid of that pesky slashiness between Arthur and Merlin. They wouldn't be the first show writers to respond the same way. This fic is my way of retconning things so that it works within the continuity of the show.
How to Win Friends and Influence People
Cedric had always been good at influencing people. Especially those who were unsuspecting. Sometimes he didn’t even have to do anything other than think very hard about what he wanted to have happen.
Once upon a time he’d been the son of a farmer, working in the fields and tending the beasts sixteen hours a day. It had definitely not been the life for him, but that had all changed the day a moderately rich nobleman had ridden into their village. Cedric had paid a visit to the inn that evening and found the man deep in his cups at a table by the fire, rich jewels sparkling on his fingers and at his neck. An hour of quiet conversation later, with Cedric doing his best to convince the man he was overheated and exhausted, the considerably less rich nobleman was asleep with his head on the table and his cloak lying on the floor, rings and brooch gone. Within minutes, Cedric was gone as well. Back to the farm he loathed just long enough to stuff his few prized possessions into a bag and ‘borrow’ the one horse. By morning he was long miles from anywhere familiar, with a pocket full of illicitly gain riches and a whole new future ahead of him.
That had been more than ten years ago, and Cedric had never looked back. That’s not to say life had always been easy. On the contrary, some years the pickings were quite slim and he spent as much time sleeping in barns and under hedges as he did on soft beds with warm covers. Truthfully, he spent most nights sleeping on the rushes of some village inn, not enough coin to rent a flea-riddled pallet for the night, but plenty to get drunk enough that sleeping on dirty rushes didn’t bother him.
This was his big chance, though. Going by the descriptions the current dim-wit was giving him, this was a treasure that would set him up for life. All he needed to do was get in the good graces of some princeling with more privilege than sense and he’d never have to live rough again.
It turned out to be even easier than he’d expected. The princeling had a truly daft servant, all gangly limbs and guileless eyes. It was child’s play to make him appear even more incompetent than he really was, and only slightly harder to make the princeling’s normal state of frustrated amusement melt into true frustration and then anger.
From there, it was almost disappointingly easy to steal the keys and make his way to the lower levels of the castle and the freshly excavated treasure vault. That's when things started going unexpectedly sideways, with Cornelius Sigan dominating his body and exulting inside his mind, on the verge of destroying Camelot and all of the fools that looked to its useless king and prince to keep them safe. And then, to be conquered by that same daft servant who’d seemed so utterly powerless and inept. In the last, fleeting moments of his life, too focused on his freedom from possession to notice his impending death, Cedric only thought he’d perhaps do a bit more research next time. And then, breath halted, eyes dimming, with one last wail of anger that death would not be swayed by his influence he slid into nothingness.
