I've failed miserably at writing fic for the last two days, but with luck I'll be back in the game from here on out. So without further ado I bring you some consolatory advent crack.

Title: the things they never tell you in the job description
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Merlin/Arthur
Warnings: Crack. Lots and lots of crack.
Spoilers: Brief references to 'The Gates of Avalon' and 'The Moment of Truth'
Summary: Why Arthur and Merlin decided that he was the best port of call for relationship advice the dragon will never know; what he does know is that destiny has a cruel sense of humour.

the things they never tell you in the job description

 

‘I see,’ said the dragon with the kind of gravitas that only someone who has been extremely bored for an extremely long time could ever hope to perfect. He swept his majestic gaze from Merlin to Arthur where they both sat cross-legged on the outcropping, refusing to look at each other. He gravely folded one taloned paw over the other, wondering just what he’d done in all the innumerable years of his life to deserve this. ‘And how does that make you feel?’

Arthur stared at him. ‘How does that make me feel? He just said that I’m the most hopeless moronic git he’s ever met and that I’m shite in bed – not true by the way, as I’m sure certain ladies of the court will agree – how do you think I feel?’

‘Hah!’ Merlin cut in. ‘Did you hear that – ‘certain ladies’ he says! More like half of bloody Camelot!’ He turned to Arthur. ‘You just can’t keep it in your pants, can you?’

‘Hey, if this is about Sophia then that was not my fault – I was enchanted!’

‘Yeah, sure you were.’

Arthur sighed in annoyance. ‘Do you see what I have to put up with?’ he said, appealing to the dragon, who did his very best to look interested. ‘I don’t know why he’s the one complaining about me being insufferable – he’s such a bloody girl.’

‘This from the man who treats me like a housewife! ‘Tidy my room, Merlin, shine my boots, Merlin, dress me, Merlin, because I’m such a baby I can’t do it myself’,’ Merlin said, voice high-pitched and mocking.

‘I’ll have you know I am perfectly capable of dressing myself!’ Arthur exclaimed indignantly.

‘Then why don’t you?’

‘Because you’re my servant, it’s your job!’

‘Did you hear that? His servant! So bloody entitled.’

‘Yes I am, actually – I’m the Prince of Camelot and you are my servant, and as such you do what I say!’

‘Alright, alright, don’t get your knickers in a twist, Princess Arthur.’

‘What did you just say?!’

‘Prat.’

‘I could have you thrown in the stocks for that.’

Merlin threw up his hands in exasperation; the dragon was beginning to understand the feeling. The two of them had been sitting in his cave sniping at each other for the better part of the last two and half hours and he’d barely been able to get a word in edgewise; it wasn’t as if this was even the first time it had happened. Ever since Merlin had revealed his magic to Arthur and told him about his destiny the two of them had been coming down to the dragon’s cave for advice with increasing frequency.

At first he’d been mildly flattered, and then entertained – it was one of the best show he’d seen in years, actually, almost as good as some of the truly spectacular spats Uther and Gaius used to have. Unfortunately these two didn’t even seem interested in what he had to say, which he thought was a little rude, to be perfectly honest, and the whole thing was beginning to turn in circles and grate on his nerves. If it wasn’t Merlin complaining about Arthur ordering him around and being insensitive and emotionally repressed then it was Arthur going on about Merlin being needy and unreasonable and not treating him with the respect he deserved. They seemed to have decided that he had nothing better to do with his time than act as their personal marriage counsellor. Admittedly that might have been technically true, but the dragon still thought it was cosmically unfair that he be subjected to such indignity.

‘Look,’ Merlin said, and the dragon perked up a little, because it seemed like the warlock was actually speaking to him this time. ‘You’re the one who keeps going on about our entwined destinies; if you want this whole destiny thing to actually happen then you have to sort this out, because I am not spending the rest of my life looking out for an insensitive twat like him.’

Arthur opened his mouth to make an angry reply and the dragon’s heart sank; here we go again, he thought, but to his surprise Arthur took a deep breath and looked up at him. ‘Fine,’ Arthur said, ‘what do you think we should do?’

The dragon brightened up a little and ruffled his wings, drawing himself up to his full and terribly impressive height as he prepared to deliver his eternal wisdom; this was his moment.

‘You already know what you must do. You cannot deny that which calls to you –seize your destiny and the power of action is in your hands,’ he intoned grandly.

There was a moment of silence.

‘Oh, that’s great, just really great,’ Merlin said. ‘No, really, thanks, that was so helpful.’ The dragon frowned; the warlock sounded suspiciously sarcastic, but that couldn’t be right.

Arthur was still staring at him, a look of complete and utter confusion on his face, undoubtedly struck dumb in awe at the force of such a great revelation.

‘What the bloody hell are you on about?’ Arthur asked; perhaps not quite awe then, the dragon amended.

‘Heed the wisdom of the ages, little Pendragon,’ he said. Merlin began choking with laughter at the word ‘little’, and Arthur shot him a venomous look. The dragon decided he most definitely did not want to know and forged bravely on ahead in his most knowing tone of voice. ‘When the mists of time are ready, you will know what the moment portends.’

If anything Arthur looked more confused than ever and Merlin burst out laughing. The dragon snorted, flame curling from his mouth. This was most certainly not the manner in which he was accustomed to be treated.

‘Could you run that by me one more time?’ Arthur asked, mouth twitching in something that looked remarkably like suppressed laughter, trading glances with Merlin.

The dragon sighed. ‘The half cannot truly hate that which makes it whole,’ he declared gravely.

‘Wait a minute,’ Merlin said, eyes narrowed. ‘You’ve used that one before.’

Bugger. Had he? The dragon wasn’t sure; Merlin came to bother him so often that he couldn’t remember what he may or may not have already said. He scrambled desperately for something he definitely wouldn’t have used yet and came up empty. To hell with it. ‘You and Arthur are two sides of the same coin?’ he hazarded.

‘Nope; even my mum’s told me that one.’

 Arthur began snickering quietly off to one side.

The dragon cursed inwardly. How could they expect him to come up with suitably deep and meaningful things to say when they were bothering him every five minutes to moan about their sex lives, and by all that was holy, those were some conversations he wished he could erase from his mind; destiny just had not prepared him for this.

‘You know, for a great and mystical dragon who sees the future you’re really quite rubbish,’ Merlin smirked, and the dragon fought down a stab of violent irritation. It would be against all the rules of destiny, he reminded himself, to kill these foolish humans here.

‘Do you just spend all your time down here coming up with cryptic and pretentious things to say to make yourself feel important?’ Arthur added, apparently getting into this new game. That one hurt, and the dragon refused to admit that there was any truth in is whatsoever.

‘No wonder Uther had you locked up,’ Merlin chuckled. ‘You’d drive everyone out of Camelot with your non-stop, condescending talking.’

Non-stop? Non-stop?! The dragon had to wonder if Merlin and Arthur ever listened to themselves, because the way they went on and on about all their petty little grievances made him look the very soul of brevity by comparison, and as for condescension, well, it was hardly his fault that he was a being of such vast and important power. The two continued, taking it in turns to toss out ever more preposterous insults (talking gibberish? Him? Just because they were too unenlightened to understand the greater workings of the universe!), laughing and playing off each other’s words, eyes dancing.

Well, at least they were enjoying themselves, he thought bitterly, tugging experimentally at his shackles and wishing not for the first time, though perhaps a little more strongly than ever before, that they weren’t magically reinforced. He added another point to his Great and Comprehensive List of Reasons why Uther Pendragon must Die a Slow and Torturous DEATH. Well, that point was technically already on there, but he mentally underlined it a few times and highlighted it in sparkly gold for extra emphasis. He contemplated whether it really would be such a bad thing if he just ate them both right now, destiny be damned; he supposed rather reluctantly that it would probably be cataclysmic, but by this point he wasn’t entirely sure he cared.

‘Seriously, I think you’ve been down here far too long – it’s addled your wits,’ Merlin was saying now; the dragon ground his jaw audibly.

‘Maybe I’ll have a word with father, try and persuade him that a senile dragon’s no threat to anyone.’ He winked at Merlin who grabbed onto his shoulder as he doubled over laughing.

‘Senile dragon,’ he wheezed,’oh, that’s good.’

‘I thought so,’ Arthur said smugly, and then they were making those eyes at each other – that hopelessly lovestruck, destined-to-be-together-forever look; it was sickening really and definitely not romantic at all, no matter what the dragon had used to think. Clearly he had been blinded by the grand sweep of destiny and oh had he been wrong, so very, very wrong to have ever gotten himself involved; sadly it was too late to wash his hands of the whole affair now.

He was relieved to see them getting to their feet, hilarity mostly done with.

‘Ah,’ Merlin sighed, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. ‘Well, thanks but no thanks,’ he said with a lopsided grin that the dragon had once found mildly endearing; now it just annoyed him. ‘I think we can sort this out ourselves,’ the warlock said (pfft – warlock! So what if the boy had a magical spark? It didn’t make him that important, really; it wasn’t like he was a dragon who could see the future or anything) and smiled shyly over at Arthur, taking his hand.

The dragon rolled his eyes. To think that they had the audacity to act so sweet and innocent after all the things they’d admitted to getting up to; the thing in the throne room with Uther’s chair alone had given the dragon strangely erotic nightmares for a month, let alone their creative interpretation of the term ‘jousting’.

Still, he supposed he should try and make one final effort. ‘Go forth, then, for hope is the domain of the free,’ he said graciously.

They burst into a fresh round of laughter at this, clearly having no appreciation whatsoever for the finer points of rhetoric, and he hissed at them in displeasure, wishing they would just hurry up and go away.

‘Now, don’t be like that!’ Merlin managed between desperate gasps for air.

‘It’s not becoming of a dragon to sulk,’ Arthur added.

The dragon snapped at that. ‘Oh grow up you ungrateful little shits!’ he snarled viciously as he launched himself into the air and flew off to find a more peaceful and secluded ledge where he most definitely would not sulk.

‘Oooh, someone’s touchy today,’ Merlin called. This was followed by another bout of raucous laughter. The dragon clenched his jaw and managed to keep control of himself only by supreme force of will.

He could hear them still joking together companionably as they left; at least they seemed to have resolved their differences for now – better to be thankful for small mercies. Still, they’d be back within a week: they always were, he thought despairingly. He was beginning to suspect they did it on purpose just to spite him, the petty little bastards. He flopped down on the most comfortable rock he could find and occupied his time with feeling very sorry for himself – though he definitely wasn’t sulking, on that point he was absolutely clear. He heaved a great sigh; next time destiny came calling, he’d tell it exactly where it could go shove itself. The dragon sighed once more, feeling terribly injured; sometimes he hated his life.