I just found this a while ago. It's the first fanfic I ever wrote. I can't remember when, but it wasn't that long ago. I thought it's quite good so I'm sticking it on. Hope y'all like. And hope you don't cringe too much at my attempts to write the balladeer's lyrics.
Disclaimer: All the property of Ben Elton and Richard Curtis, not me.
The Ballad of the Balladeer
Edmund Blackadder moaned and turned over, vaguely aware of the dawn light shining on him. He pulled the covers closer to him, smiling, before he became aware of a very unwelcome sound.
"Awake, yond people of the town
To the sound of a merry singer!
Blackadder dresses like a clown
And always looks a total minger!"
Could he not have one morning where that bloody balladeer didn't turn up? Scowling, he got up and made his way to the windows in the living room. He opened the furthest one along and stuck his head out.
"Oi! You!"
"Blackadder! Blackadder!"
"Bugger off!"
"His cunning plans are pap!"
Edmund picked up a stone from the gutter and flung it in the balladeer's direction.
"Blackadder! Blackadder!"
He picked up a few more stones and continued to hurl them at the balladeer.
"And his beard is crap!"
"You little son of a-"
"What's going on, Edmund?"
"The balladeer's come back," Edmund answered, his eyes still fixed on the balladeer, not even bothering to turn and look at Percy, who had come in without knocking again.
"Lord Percy! Lord Percy!
A face like glue and sick!"
"He doesn't know what he's talking about," sulked Percy.
"Or at least not until he got to that part," answered Edmund.
"Lord Percy! Lord Percy!
And every bit as thick!"
Percy was as close as Percy got to fuming. "Well, I've got half a mind to-"
"Percy, what's that?" Edmund cut in, staring with a devilish grin at the hefty club in Percy's hand, which at the moment looked so appealing that Edmund didn't have too much trouble passing up the opportunity to make an easy jibe at Percy having half a mind.
"It's a cudgelling stick," explained Percy. "My new girlfriend, Gertrude's into that kind of thing." He swallowed nervously. "She wants me to play her cousin this afternoon."
"Percy, I don't want to hear her life story; all the other ones were dull enough," Edmund complained. "Just give me the stick."
Percy obediently let Edmund take it, and Edmund leaned out of the window again. Before the balladeer could play another note, Edmund had cracked him over the head and sent him crashing to the ground.
"You know, I could really get into this cudgelling."
Not even twenty minutes were allowed o pass before the balladeer once again started to cause problems for Edmund. Tersely leaving the room to find out where the bloody hell Baldrick was with his breakfast, he found his servant idly staring out of a window.
"Baldrick!" he snapped.
"My lord," choked Baldrick, spinning around and struggling to compose himself. "There is an unconscious man lying in the street. I thought it'd be a good idea if I went to help him."
"No, it wouldn't," Edmund replied. "Now go and make me some breakfast before I stick a toasting fork where the sun doesn't shine."
Baldrick paused a moment, apparently trying to figure out where this might be, before retorting; "But he's not moving, my lord!"
"Yes, he looks very relaxed, doesn't he."
"What if he's dead, my lord?"
"Then it would be any use you going to help him," answered Edmund, gripping his servant by the shoulders and trying to steer him away from the window.
"But my lord!" protested Baldrick.
"What now?"
As soon as Edmund released his hold on Baldrick's shoulders, Baldrick had run out of the room and through the front door, darted out into the middle of the street and was on his knees with his mouth locked around that of the balladeer. Edmund angrily followed and pulled his servant up by the scruff of his neck.
"Baldrick, that man was breathing," he berated.
"Yeah," Baldrick grinned. "I saved him."
"He was breathing before you got to him."
"I was just making sure."
"With your tongue?"
"It was to clear the airway."
Edmund groaned and smacked Baldrick around the head. "You'd do anything for a snog, wouldn't you Baldrick."
Baldrick looked about to give a cheeky reply, but before he could open his mouth the balladeer began to cough. Not wanting to stay within lunging distance of the lunatic singer, Edmund tried to pull Baldrick back towards the front door, but Baldrick seemed equally determined to stay where he was, so before the balladeer could be moved to actions, or worse, lyrics, Edmund grabbed Baldrick around the waist and practically carried him back into the house. Though he tried to drown out Baldrick's inarticulate protestations and the balladeer's melodious ones, he managed to catch the end of a disturbing song as the balladeer gave chase.
"Baldrick! My Baldrick!
I've slept with him before!
O Baldrick! Sweet Baldrick!
I've come back for some more!"
Edmund slammed the door and bolted it. He turned to Baldrick, who was who was subtly trying to inch back into his bedroom. "Is this true?" he demanded.
"No, my lord," replied Baldrick. Edmund grabbed his collar and raised an eyebrow. "Yes my lord."
"When, where and why?"
"About three weeks ago, in the alley next to the house, because I love him."
Edmund glared. "What?"
"Because I love him, my lord."
Edmund rounded on his servant, trapping him against a wall. "No Baldrick, you do not love him. You do not love anyone, and if I hear you mention those words again, you will not be doing any more loving at all, thanks to me and a bread knife."
Half an hour later, a silent and sulking Baldrick finally served his master's breakfast, with the irritating chorus still pushing in as best it could from the gutter. With every window and door locked and bolted, Baldrick doing as he was told and the keys hidden from him, Edmund decided he would just ignore the song as best he could until the balladeer got bored and went away. He sniffed. There seemed to be an odd sort of smell coming from the porridge Baldrick had just given him, but he shrugged it off, thinking that the unusual stench of his servant must have somehow mixed with it.
But no… there was something odd about the taste too.
"Baldrick!" he shouted.
"What?" pouted Baldrick, shoving the door open and leaning on the frame. Edmund decided to ignore his insolence for now, considering what he feared was wrong with the porridge.
"Have you urinated in this?"
Edmund saw the fear flash into Baldrick's face, and then the guilty look of a man who wanted revenge, but didn't particularly want to get caught doing it.
"No," Baldrick lied through his remaining teeth.
Edmund took a step forward, again holding Baldrick by the collar. He pulled him a few steps into the room, then punched him violently on the nose, sending him crashing into the wall and onto the floor. He dived on his winded servant and wrapped his hands around his neck, and squeezed until Baldrick choked and tried to wrestle himself free.
He was so enraged, he didn't even notice the smashing of he glass in the windows. He hardly noticed the sharp blow to his head. In fact, if he hadn't had such a headache when he woke up, he wouldn't have even realised he'd been knocked out with a guitar at all.
The first thing Edmund noticed after he woke up, after the headache, was a sound that made him quite sick. The very thought of Baldrick making love at all made him feel fairly sick, but doing it, and doing it loudly, in Edmund's own home with one of Edmund's most irritating enemies made him want to throw up all his insides, the external parts they were attached to and then the rest of his body until he turned inside-out.
Oddly enough, in the throes of passion it was Baldrick who sounded the more musical. Thinking about that made Edmund feel yet even more sick.
He tried the door, but even Baldrick wasn't thick enough to leave it unlocked. He thought a moment. Baldrick and the balladeer were doing it extremely loudly. Chances were he could take a battering ram to the door and neither of them would notice. So that was what he would do. He noticed with a sly grin that the balladeer had left his guitar on the living room floor, and Edmund was well aware of how lethal it could be.
Edmund raised the guitar over his head, swung, and revelled in the crash that followed. He swung again, and was sure he heard something breaking. With one more swing, the lock broke and the door swung open.
As it happened, Baldrick and the balladeer had noticed Edmund trying to batter the door down, and had at least managed to put their tights back on. They both stood by the bed, looking ready to pounce. Edmund came closer, brandishing the heavy guitar. After two steps, the balladeer went for him, jumping straight at him and going for the throat. Edmund stuck out with the guitar and knocked him to the floor.
Baldrick came at him next, with a sort of tackle aimed at the waist. Edmund took it full on, and though it knocked the wind out of him, he managed to catch hold of Baldrick and keep him still. Glancing around the room, he saw what he was looking for; a pair of cheap iron love manacles. Hauling Baldrick over and seizing them, he locked one manacle around Baldrick's wrist and attached the other to the bed. Baldrick continued trying to attack him, despite Edmund having moved well out of his reach.
Edmund turned to the balladeer. The two met eyes for a moment, but only a moment because the balladeer was out of the room like a shot, and running for the only available exit; the living room window. He ran through and jumped, and Edmund was right behind him.
Edmund chased the balladeer for almost half an hour through the streets of London, knocking over stalls, carts and children, and attracting the attention of everyone they passed. Mrs Miggins from the pie shop leaned out of the window and shouted encouragement at him, and several brainless commoners yelled their support for the balladeer. Lord Melchett, who was wandering around one of the markets, tried to ask him where the finishing line was, but found himself flung into a fish stall before he could get the end of the tastelessly crap joke out of his mouth.
After half an hour of chasing, the balladeer led Edmund to the palace, where he jumped over the palace wall and into the gardens. Edmund followed. The balladeer sprinted through the gardens, probably going for the hedge maze, where he could easily lose Edmund. But he was getting tired, and Edmund saw his chance. Mustering up all his strength, he broke into a strong, very painful sprint, saw the terrified look in the balladeer's eyes as he glanced back and tried to run faster, and finally caught him by a large marble fountain. Casually, Edmund smacked the balladeer's head off the side and dumped the unconscious body in the water.
The job done, he turned back and headed for home. Now there was just Baldrick to deal with.