(no subject)

[pratful]

When: Mid-afternoon The Evening of March 23rd.
Rating: PG13
Characters: Arthur, Merlin and anyone at the Pevensie Mansion (aka, Edmund)
Summary; Merlin's a lightweight and guess who was told to come fetch the wizard? None other then Arthur. Oh, there's going to be a bit of hell to pay...
Log; For the umpteenth time, Arthur drags Merlin back up by the shirtwaist. "Do try to keep... moving your feet or something, will you Merlin? You're making this much more difficult then it needs to be." Of course, Merlin getting drunk at all (and without even Arthur in attendance!) was a something he'd have to address later.

Merlin was his servant! In a strange land such as this, there were protocols to be observed and getting drunk before Arthur's barely been here a day was plain irresponsible. And if he had one more woman pinch his butt...

At least they were within sight of the door. Next time, Merlin can find his own way home.

Comments

[destinedtobeunpopular]

Right, that is so much better. Even in this state, Merlin knows Arthur doesn't really have much to do. All the more reasons to call him.

Merlin doesn't mind getting dumped like that. In fact, he seems rather completely content, and happily perches there as he watches Arthur move around. Hah, Arthur is actually fixing food for him!

"The City will probably be good for you."

[pratful]

Don't get your hopes up. All Arthur finds is a block of cheese and a af of a bread. Have at, good Merlin.

"This City will be the death of me, as are you."

He leans on the counter before shuffling around and getting out a knife. Maybe he'll just make himself the food and leave Merlin to starve.

[destinedtobeunpopular]

Nooo, no starving, Merlin doesn't want to starve. Block of cheese and bread is looking pretty great in his eyes, honestly.

"Nah, you'll be fine. You're Arthur!" he exclaims with a huge grin and spreads his arms, all like it's the most obvious thing in the world which, really, it is. Come now.

[pratful]

He hides a smile behind the fringe of his hair as he carefully, very carefully, cuts the bread.

"And I'll believe that once you're sober. Now eat up." He slides bread and cheese across the table, pleased indeed. Merlin was right. He is Arthur. He was made of sterner stuff then this.

[destinedtobeunpopular]

It's a little endearing to watch Arthur settle into a life where he doesn't have much status, aside from the occasional people who know his name. Merlin pretty much drapes on the table and raises up only when he pretty much gets the sandwich in his face.

"Good. Long as you believe it soon." He happily grabs the sandwich and takes a bite. Oh, sweet heaven food.