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Merlin supposed he should have suspected that it would have to end. Arthur's good mood had been like the sun – in as rainy a country as Merlin lived, it was a rare thing. The three days it had been out had been fantastic, Merlin was even starting to look forward to going to work. Arthur had generally been all smiles and requests instead of orders, and the day off had been great, despite (or perhaps, because of) the fact that Arthur had been around. And then the pay raise, and Merlin kind of figured he was sitting pretty. He didn't know what he'd done to suddenly get in Arthur's good books. Maybe it was the fact that Gwen was still aliv

Shopping with Merlin, Arthur found, was as whirlwind an experience as shopping with Morgana used to be. Now, Arthur was used to getting recognized when he went out into the city, used to drawing attention everywhere he went, and usually this went to his head and he didn't really think about anything else other than making sure his etiquette was appropriate and his 'prince smile' for the public was in place and he listened to each townsperson that approached him with reverence and understanding, because someday he was going to be a strong king and chances to go out among the people like this would become slim, and so he needed the reputation n

The next morning, Merlin woke up to ignorant bliss. It was the best night's sleep he'd gotten in ages, and he wasn't sure if it was because last night's dinner had been good (despite what Arthur had to say about it) or the fact that the sun was shining warmly on his face when he awoke, or the fact that he'd just managed to sleep a full 8 hours… About then, it hit him. He was late. He leapt out of bed and scrambled into his clothes, threw his door open with a bang, and ignored Gaius' call from their breakfast table as he sprinted down the hall to get to the prince's chambers. Arthur was never appreciative of tardiness, maybe Merlin cou

Sometimes, Arthur could really, really, be a spoiled, arrogant, bratty clotpole. "No, this won't do," the prince said, throwing down his spoon like a petulant child. "I simply can't stomach it, what even is this?" he demanded. Merlin tried to ward off his impending headache. "It's chicken stew," he offered in what he hoped was (but really knew wasn't) a peaceful tone. "I made it twice last week and you didn't say anything then – no, my mistake, you actually said it was good, last week." "And is this the same chicken you used for it last week, Merlin? Meat goes bad, you know, this is disgusting, I simply cannot eat it." Arthur shoved

“You can’t be serious.” As was often the case, Ike's words gave voice to what everyone in the room was already thinking, save for the informant and, perhaps, the mage. The cloaked rouge, looking somewhat out of place in the council chamber, merely frowned. “I wouldn’t joke about news so grim.” His fiancée’s face paled. “Fifteen thousand men… against our own seven thousand…” As if the blood draining from her face wasn't enough, a clear note of horror had seeped into her tone, but her siblings were quick to step in with reassurances. “Doubtless many of them are unt

“Are you certain that you’re feeling up to it?” The queen's sister had called upon years of political grooming to school her expression into one of mild concern, which hid the near panic she truly felt, as she watched the mage don his tunic and sandals with shaking fingers. Just a few days ago, he'd been at death's door. And, now... Unconsciously, Lucia began to gnaw at her lower lip, a nervous habit from bygone days that always drew a snicker from her siblings... ...and, for Soren, betrayed her anxiety as surely as if she'd started bawling. “Don’t worry about me, Lucia. Your thoughts would be better spent on

Swish, swish. Huff. Swish. Swish, swish. Sigh. Swish, swish. Swish. “Bugger.” Merlin did his best to ignore the almost dramatic mutterings of the prince as he cleared the table from breakfast, but after they’d gone on for more than five minutes, he was starting to think that Arthur was waiting for him to comment. “Wardrobe malfunction, sire?” he spoke up, earning him another sigh in response as Arthur came out from behind the changing screen. The Prince wasn’t often one to worry so much about how he dressed – that was more his father’s thing, and Arthur didn’t exactly parade around in ro