Work Text:
Diary of a Not At All Wimpy Warlock
To ride on a dragon,
To whisper a spell,
To save my kingdom
And save it well,
To lie to friends
And foes alike
And wait for Uther's
Next victim to strike,
So I in turn
May strike them down
And thus protect
My own loved ones...
To sneak around
'Neath stars and moon,
And blunder and blab
Like a gods-damned loon,
Is but a part of the 'sturdy' life
Of a warlock, in Camelot.
To choke -
On silent apologies,
And wonder if magic
Is such a disease,
To conjure a dragon
From fire and smoke,
To see the soldiers
Prod and poke
Through Gaius' quarters -
To jest with Gwen,
Be given Arthur's
Cloak to mend,
To feel the joy
Of an actual book
And have my Prince give me
A second look -
Is all a part of the sturdy life
That I built, in Camelot.
To joke with my servant,
And hear him retort -
To see him appraise
The flowers I brought
And tucked into
His neckerchief,
To make him smile
When he's sober with grief...
To have a friend
Whom I can trust,
Who can assure me,
My choices are just,
Who'll readily help
If I'm in need,
Who for my sake
Would willingly bleed -
Is only a part of the pleasure of having
A Merlin, in Camelot.