Work Text:
Camelot sees
Camelot sees a serving boy,
His shoulders stooped, attire plain,
A lowly commoner, Royalty's toy,
Clumsily tripping over rough terrain.
But I am Merlin, with golden eyes,
With spells pouring from my fingertips,
Cleverly covered in a humble guise,
Enchantments tumbling from my lips.
Camelot sees a bumbling fool,
With threadbare clothes and a dopey grin,
His hands are rough from farming tools,
He's simple and weak, all coltish and thin.
But I am a Warlock, strength lies in my words,
My skin tattooed over with battle scars,
From amber flame, I shape dragons and birds,
I bend my way through prison bars.
Camelot sees a humble man,
Who lacks the strength, the skill to fight,
He lacks the knowledge for strategic plans,
He's naive and ignorant, seldom right.
But I am a Creature of courage and pride,
With Dragonfire burning through my veins,
Ancient Beings serve as my guides,
I'm glorious, unearthly, reckless, insane.
Camelot sees naught but a human being
No status, no title, to claim as his own,
He's always rushing, always fleeing,
A servant among warriors, all alone.
But I am Magic, a Dragonlord,
Figure in the shadows, the last resort,
I'm a regent, a Noble, who hands out rewards,
A Round Table Member, the Lady's consort.