Work Text:
There is a place, deep inside the palace. It’s hidden pretty well, though it’s close to the throne room. It’s a hallway, grand as any the palace sports, but this one is special. The marble is worn, in the way it only gets when many feet have walked over it, some tiles cracked, yet not replaced: after all, this hallway isn’t used much. When the servants walk over one of the broken tiles they creak, like a door to a magical world just about to open.
The ceiling is high and rounded, the work of a mason of old, images embedded into it. A grand crystal chandelier is hanging from it, shedding light onto the ongoings below. It illuminates the feature that makes this corridor so special, the one thing that makes it feel like a treasure, hidden within the labyrinth of the palace.
It’s two portraits and simple as that may sound, it isn’t in truth. Many a servant has stopped to stare at them before, when their tasks weren’t so urgent and they had the time to dawdle. It’s no wonder—the two portraits create a fascinating juxtaposition.
Both showcase a tall and a short person—though they’re decidedly different in content. The first is of a small green man and a lovely young woman. Their pose is silly and just the thought of how long they must’ve stood like that in order to be painted makes the servants giggle. There’s something off about it, though—neither of the people in the picture look like they’re comfortable in their own skin. They’re clearly no teenagers, and yet, it gives off that feeling. Like a gangly teenager, they have not grown into their features yet, awkward like a fawn attempting to stand for the first time, unable to coordinate all four of its legs.
In contrast, the second portrait showcases two people much more comfortable in their skin. It’s a portrait with familiar faces, this one: Queen Snow and Prince Consort Merlin. The Queen is looking up with a beatific smile, bright and happy and everything good. She’s showing off her considerable physical strength—not by lifting a boulder, but by lifting her husband. Prince Consort Merlin is held up in bridal carry and looking inordinately pleased about it, more than a little red-cheeked. He’s tall, his limbs seemingly spilling everywhere, but it doesn’t matter with how happy they look. The picture feels right, like everything is just how it should be. Meant to be, fated, a proper happily ever after.
And now the funny thing comes: though these two portraits are as different as can be, in truth the subjects are the very same people.
Queen Snow White and Prince Consort Merlin is written below both of them. The first, though, has a small postscript: (cursed).
A curse?! Many cried upon reading the description. And they kept the portrait afterward? After all, images of people while cursed are often burned after the curse in question is broken. It’s considered bad luck to keep it—the curse might come back if it has any purchase left.
The fact that the first portrait wasn’t burned… That says things about Queen Snow and her consort. Things that, when you get deeper into it, might not be the idea of a happily ever after as most imagine it.
That said, do you want to sneak a peek? I’ve got a little magic left over and portraits carry impressions within the paint. We’ll get ourselves a front-view seat to the proceedings as they were painted—and perhaps, if there is a strong enough attachment to them, even beyond.
Just close your eyes and one, two, three—
There we go.
Jack hums as he takes his brush to the canvas. ‘’Usually, I never do anything but self-portraits. But for you, ma chérie, I will make an exception. We will have to get this perfection down in paint!’’ Looking past his easel, he smiles at Red Shoes. She’s in the middle of a field of flowers, the sun shining down on her. ‘’Such a beautiful day, how I can not capture it?’’
Red shuffles about a bit, a grimace on her face. ‘’I don’t know, Jack. I appreciate it, I really do, but why would you want a painting of just me?’’
Jack waves her away. ‘’Ma chérie, isn’t it obvious? I need many self-portraits to make up for the time I have my beauty covered with my invisibility cloak but in your case… Ah, I need to make up for the time I did not know you!’’
Red’s smile becomes a bit more genuine at his exuberant expression, but her hands stay clasped and rather tense. ‘’Still… I’d like it better if there was someone else too. Remembering the good times together, isn’t that what portraits are for? Capturing that would truly be valuable.’’
Jack frowns. ‘’There’s only us here, though. And I can’t paint you if I’m not behind the canvas.’’
There’s a scuffle in the background. ‘’That’s it! I’m gonna get that smarmy git—’’ Arthur’s voice came out of nowhere.
‘’Oi, look where you’re putting your feet, mate!’’ Merlin sounds incredibly insulted, before he lets out an ‘’Oof!’’ and suddenly tumbles into view. Behind him, two small, muddy disembodied boots are visible.
Jack has a face like thunder and he’s about to release some lightning! ‘’Ies that my invisibility cloak?!’’
Merlin cries out from his place on the floor. ‘’Don’t look at me! I’m a victim as well!’’
Arthur takes the invisibility cloak off and scowls. ‘’You bloody well aren’t! We both decided to—’’
He stops talking as he watches Jack slowly pick up his mirror, his fist clenched around the handle.
‘’Oi, mate, don’t do this. Haven’t we been friends for years? No need for broken glass!’’
Jack slaps the mirror against his other palm. Arthur squeaks and pales until he’s as white as a sheet. ‘’Alright, I’ll be going then. Have a nice day!’’ And he runs off as if the devil’s on his heels.
Jack turns around to face Merlin, only to see Red helping him up and dusting off his clothes. When she turns to Jack she smiles, tucking her hair behind her ear. ‘’Isn’t it perfect? He can stand for the portrait with me!’’
Behind her, Merlin lights up like the sun and Jack can’t help but sigh. ‘’Alright, but I’m only letting it go this time! Next time he’s getting the mirror!’’
One of these days he’ll truly give his fellow little green men what for, no matter these pesky little feelings of fraternity! Jack raises his brush again and gets to work. Faintly, he registers them talking as he gets into the zone.
Merlin shuffles about, which is rather irritating as Jack is trying to determine his pose, but whatever, he’ll start with Red.
‘’I don’t know about this, Red. The painting thing, I mean,’’ Merlin says.
Jack shakes his head behind the easel. That boy. Image issues all the way. Jack might not like his current stature either, but at least he knows his skin is flawless in any form he assumes. Merlin’s issues with his appearance are more than skin-deep. Perhaps standing for the portrait is a punishment for stealing the cloak in itself, though Jack doesn’t like the thought of that. Beating someone up with a blunt object before leaving to do your twenty-step skincare routine is something different than hitting someone where it hurts and will keep hurting.
Red hums. ‘’You’re right.’’
Merlin’s face falls and Jack can almost hear his ego break a little more before Red continues: ‘’This ought to be far more fun. Make the best silly face you can do!’’
She scrunches up her face the best she can and Merlin flinches a little at the suddenness of it, before he visibly swallows and takes it for the challenge it is, determined and bright-eyed. He sticks his tongue out and satisfied, Jack picks up a proper red to start getting that down on the canvas. It’ll contrast with Merlin’s green skin, which is perfect really. Also really gets that cohesion into the painting, paired with Red’s skirt, shoes and oh-so crimson lips.
Oh, to get a kiss from those and be freed from the curse… Oh well, surely Merlin won’t win the race by sticking his tongue out, right?
Several hours later, the painting is finished and drying. With a flourish, Jack presents it to Red and Merlin. ‘’Voilà! I present to you, my masterwork!’’
Merlin frowns, hand reaching out for the paint before putting it down before Jack slaps it. No paws on his drying paint.
‘’I don’t think I like it.’’
Red cocks her head to the side as she studies the painting. ‘’Because of the pose?’’
Merlin shakes his head. ‘’No, that was fun. I just don’t like looking at me.’’
‘’Merlin…’’ Red reaches for his hand, but Merlin jumps backward.
‘’Ha! The real me is very handsome, though! I bet a portrait of me then would be far better!’’
Red bites her lip but doesn’t say anything. It’s a shame—Jack’s pretty sure she’s got something important to say and perhaps if she says it loud enough, Merlin would listen.
Merlin’s difficult, though. And Jack knows this better than anyone: you can’t talk someone into loving themself. They have to do that on their own.
Jack can’t help but laugh at the tableau before him as he puts his brush to canvas once again. It’s barely been two weeks since the royal wedding and it shows—Snow and Merlin are goofing around and it’s adorable.
Thinking back on how they used to be is so strange now. All of them chasing after Snow—or Red, as they’d known her back then—in order to break their curse. Jack’s hasn’t been broken yet. He’s known his lovely Merfish for about a week now but it feels like an eternity. They promised to go slow, after their faithful first meeting in which she proposed to him with a pearl. A rather funny situation, really, when Jack was far more impressed by her beautiful smooth scales than her riches. Oh, to have the smoothest skin—or scales— in all of the country! Merfish is clearly the most beautiful woman alive and will undoubtedly break Jack’s curse when they’re ready, but it will have to wait. He’d rather be painting her grandiose beauty right now, but Snow had requested him to do her and Merlin’s state portrait and how could he refuse his friends?
Speaking of, they’re awfully wrapped up in each other. Snow is holding Merlin in bridal style, and their faces are very close together. Merlin, the tall bastard, is nearly spilling out of her arms, his limbs that long. Snow giggles. ‘’Keep still!’’
Merlin sighs dramatically, miming throwing a hand against his forehead before wiggling up further anyway and nuzzling his nose to hers. ‘’How can I, when you’re right there?’’
‘’Oh, you!’’
Merlin grins and reaches up even further, stretching his upper body in order to put his lips to hers. He starts to wobble, and Snow’s eyes widen at the sight of it, but it’s too late to adjust her grip even as she tries to catch him. With a loud ‘thud’ they topple onto the ground.
‘’Ouch!’’ Snow rubs her forehead and Merlin groans beneath her but starts laughing immediately afterward.
Jack, on the other hand, is not nearly as amused. Tucking his brush behind his ear, he crosses his arms and starts tapping with his foot. ‘’What’s so funny?! I’m trying to make a proper magnum opus here! Stand up and be pretty!’’
Snow scrambles off Merlin, who’s hiccuping from laughter by now, her eyes filled with mirth as she extends her hand to help him up. He wipes away a tear from the corner of his eye as she heaves him up into bridal style again. Patting her arm once he’s in them properly again, Merlin melts into her. ‘’Oh, to have a lady strong enough to push a bloke around…’’
Jack chuckles behind his easel. ‘’Always had a hunch you’d like to be manhandled.’’
Merlin’s cheeks turn as red as his wife’s former shoes, but also puts his nose in the air, a terribly smug look on his face. ‘’So what? I’ve got a wonderful wife who’s exactly my type!’’
Jack doesn’t even bother reacting to it, he’s too busy grabbing his pencil to sketch that self-satisfied expression out. Merlin in all his red-cheeked glory… Too good an opportunity to pass up on, that had to be immortalized in paint. Preferably in the state portrait he’s currently making. Thousands of people will see it. Merlin will never live it down.
Still, Jack has an inkling he won’t truly mind. Merlin’s settled next to Snow. There’s still showmanship in him—that’s Merlin—but he’s calm, not fidgeting and running right of to the next bright and shiny thing because the longer he stays the worse he’ll feel about himself. Merlin can look into a mirror now and not just face his appearance. He can face his heart and that is the most important thing.
Merlin and Snow don’t need each other to be good people. But they make each other see their beauty all the more, enhance each other. It’s lovely to see and Jack’s sure he’s leaving his brother in arms in good hands.
His own Merfish will be waiting for him by the sea tonight when Merlin and Snow will have long retired into their happily ever after, their castle full of future adventures.
The future is bright, but for now, Jack is just capturing the moment.
The magic is slowly leaving the paint, fairy dust shaking off, but there—something still glitters in the corner of the painting. Is there a memory left after all?
I think I can catch a glimpse of it! It portrays the very hall we’re standing in right now. Isn’t that curious?
...Let’s check it out before the magic peters out.
The chandelier above shimmers in its own light as it illuminates the corridor below. Merlin shields his eyes against the light as Snow tugs him after her. The hour is late and most of the lighting in the palace has been dimmed, but not here.
Snow stops in the middle of the hallway. Merlin frowns, as he lowers his arm. ‘’Is the surprise here? In the middle of the—’’, he cuts off as he catches sight of the two portraits on the wall. They’re in matching golden frames with neat descriptions below.
Merlin’s breath catches in his throat as he reaches out to touch the first portrait. ‘’Oh wow. I didn’t expect them to be here. It’s so deep within the palace.’’
Snow nods, biting her lip. ‘’I know you didn’t really like the portrait of us cursed so I didn’t know if you’d want it where the dignitaries pass. But I thought they deserved to be framed together.’’
Merlin smiles as he traces the description below one of the portraits: Queen Snow White and Prince Consort Merlin (cursed). Their expressions are silly and they look oh-so young. ‘’I don’t think the first one was so bad after all. Nostalgic, really.’’ He looks at Snow. She smiles back at him.
‘’Hmm, I think so too.’’ She gestures at the portraits, "They're supposed to be next to each other. Us, in all our shapes and sizes."
Merlin puts his arm around her and squeezes her waist. ‘’Yes,’’ he says, simple and honest, and there are no more words needed.