Roland entered the sitting room hoping for a little privacy. King Corwin was laid to rest several hours ago and the castle was still packed to the buttresses with guests. Then again it was still pouring outside. This many people at the castle inevitably leads to politics. He was quite sure at least three treaties, six shipping contracts, and one declaration of war had occurred since they returned from the tomb. Roland wanted quiet. Unfortunately he was not going to get it. For in this darkened room stood one of the last people he wanted to spend time with at the moment. Merlin.
The prince was staring out at the rain. In one hand he had a large goblet of, by the scent, fortified wine and the other a small silver flower. Roland was too far into the room to withdraw politely so he entered and crouched by the dying fire. He poked at it until brightened and began to give off more heat. Then he just looked into the fire, watching the odd patterns rise and fall, while desperately hoping that he and Merlin could continue to ignore each other. It was not to be.
He heard Merlin shamble over to the fireplace and stand behind Roland, who continued to try and ignore him. Merlin made it difficult.
"I looks behind me and I thinks I sees a bear by the fire and I says to my-own-self, 'oo da 'ell let a bear in here?' Den I thinks, 'wait! That's the barbarian, ol' what'is face... Romulan... er, Roland."
Roland almost was impressed by how quickly the intelligent, and usually extremely articulate, prince drank himself into an almost idiotic stupor. At any other time he would have thought the prince was shamming. Not today. Roland entertained the idea of knocking the prince unconscious so he could have some quiet. But no, Roland thought, his father is gone and he is wallowing in his misery. Who am I to take that from him?
"Nice ceremony, yes?" Merlin hiccupped, "Mother was sooo broken up. She cried and cursed the whole time. I think she hated him as much as she lo – (hic) – loved him."
Merlin began to replay the day's events and Roland revisited the idea of caving in the prince's skull. Merlin fingered the silver rose that he had in his hand and swigged the wine. With a sigh Roland stood up and turned to face the prince who hadn't even noticed that there was now a towering giant hovering over him. After a brief pause, Roland reached out with a single finger and slowly pushed him in the chest until what little balance Merlin had fled and he fell into one of the overstuffed chairs by the fireplace.
"Hey! You pushed me!"
Roland calmly lit his pipe as he sat in the other chair. Once his pipe was going he looked at Merlin with a mixture of pity and disgust.
"I helped you find a chair," he replied evenly.
"Uuuh, thanks, then... I think."
Merlin shook his addled head and stared into the fire.
"This sucks," he began, "I only know the man for, what? A little over a bloody year and now he is gone. Shit," he then began to tell the tail Corwin told him when they met. Everyone had heard it. It occurred to Roland that that was all Merlin really knew about his father. At least he was sure of his parentage. At least he liked his father. Roland wasn't even sure if his father is his father and all the ramifications that entails. Roland didn't even like the man who called himself his father. He let Merlin ramble on...
"... So, he tells Random and Deidre that he lost his memory..."
Roland held up his hand.
"Stop." He command with a clear voice that spoke of power and authority.
Somehow that cut through Merlin's hazy mind and shut off his ability to speak because he just stopped talking without changing expression or even looking at Roland. He idly wondered if Merlin was so drunk that he still thought that his mouth was moving. Roland shrugged his shoulders indifferently.
"It's my turn. The first time I met Corwin I was not quite full grown. Julian had invited Corwin to go hunting with him. To this day I do not know why but the request was odd enough that our Grandfather sent along two of his retainers to go along. He said they just wanted to go hunting but Julian told me that neither one of them had ever hunted with them before. Maybe it was to keep an eye on them. I don't know," Roland pulled up a stool and put up his feet. He noticed that Merlin was watching him so he continued.
"Corwin brought his own people, including his current tart of a girlfriend, and Julian had his rangers with me tucked in with them. I did not want to go but Julian made me which was also strange he usually wanted nothing to do with me and acknowledging me was the last thing he wanted at the time. So, he stuck me in with his nameless rangers," It looked like Merlin was going to say something but Roland just waved him down and continued talking.
"Your father," he said while pointing his pipe at Merlin, "was an arrogant, pompous, haughty, self-serving, puffed-up ass. I hated him immediately, although less than Julian. He spent his time showing off for his bitch, one-upping Julian, or demeaning whom he called 'the unwashed masses.' Which is to say, those of us who were actually working. He took home a deer that day. A deer that I shot."
Merlin's face went white and his eyes were full of rage. He was gripping the chair so tightly that his knuckles popped. He looked as if he was going to try to leap out of the chair.
"However," continued Roland in a placating tone as he relaxed in the chair, "One couldn't dislike him always. In the span of an afternoon he composed a tune that charmed the birds from the sky. At times he was gracious and almost pleasant. He actually congratulated me on the shot that brought down his deer."
Although still wary, and drunk, Merlin no longer looked as if he was going to try to kill Roland at the moment. So, Roland continued.
"I didn't see him again until the day Eric died. I had brought some huntsmen to reinforce Amber's troops. Not that it mattered. If they didn't break us that time, the next time they would surely have pushed through." He took a healthy swig from one of the many bottles scattered across the room and belched heartily, "Regardless what his true motives were, he saved our asses."
Roland glanced ant Merlin who was staring at him with a slightly vague and vacant expression. Roland figured that it wouldn't be long now. He continued by telling him of his brief encounters with him during the days prior to Oberon's return. Then he recounted watching Corwin try to fight his way through to the edge of the Abyss to try to stop Brand and save Deidre. He embellished quite a bit but it didn't matter.
"I still don't really like him but he has done well by me and he was probably the most human among us," Roland scratched his beard thoughtfully, "If you think about it, he had it the roughest because he was the first of our parents, aunts, and uncles to grow up..."
He looked over at Merlin who was snoring lightly in the chair, a little drool going down his cheek. Roland took another swallow of whisky and stared into the fire.
"Next time I want you to leave me alone, Prince Merlin," he mumbled to himself while drinking, "I'll save my throat and just kick you in the head."